The bird and her children
by Pearlislove
Summary: Alma LeFay Peregrine, one of the best Ymbrynes there ever was. On the small island of Cairnholm outside of the Welsh coast, she keep a loop and a home for peculiare children. But how did she meet these children? How did they emd up in her home on the Welsh island? Well, that's the story I'm about to tell.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I love this book series, and felt I simply had to do something for this fandom! Now i'm sitting with 10K+ in my docs and a lot of none-written steven universe works, and this si the first taste: The first story of how miss Peregrine came to gain a new charge. Everyone say hi to Claire with her golden curls! ;)**

 **Claire Densmore**

The ringing of the doorbell was peculiar to Alma. Not that she wasn't used to peculiare things, she certainly was, but almost none came to knock on her door, even fewer bothering to actually use the doorbell.

Alma felt secretly pleased whoever was at the door was polite enough to do so.

"Who's a the door, Miss P?" Alma's oldest charge, Emma Bloom, a suspicious fifteen year old with fire abilities, asked. Alma just shock her head.

"I don't know, Miss Bloom. We were certainly not expecting any visitors." She tried to keep her composer in front of her charges, but secretly she felt worried. Unexpected company was rarely good company.

Taking a deep breath, Alma opened door, looking out at the front porch, only to be met with a peculiar sight.

Standing on her porch was a blonde, blue eyed woman, probably in her early twenties to judge off her small stature and youthful face. The woman was dressed in a thin dress and a peach coloured trench coat, half of which was partly hiding a small object swept in a pink blanket.

"A-are you Miss Peregrine?" The woman stuttered, soaked and freezing despite the warm summer weather, pressing the small object closer to her heaving chest.

"Alma LeFay Peregrine, yes. And who are you?" Alma offered a hand for the young woman to shake, the wrong one of the other two hands grabbing onto hers and hesitantly shaking it.

"M-my name i-is Emmeline. Emmeline Densmore. A-are you the woman who take care of peculiare children?" Emmeline let go of Alma's hand, putting her own hand back against the object swept in the pink quilt. It was quite big and lumpy, and Alma had a nagging suspicion telling her that she knew was hiding underneath the fabric.

"Yes, I do. Why?" She asked, in all politeness answering the woman's inquiry.

"You got to take her! Please! Her names Claire, and she's my sister." As soon as the words of confirmation left Alma's mouth, Emmeline removed the object from her chest and pushed it against Alma's instead.

Unfazed by the other woman's rush, Alma carefully wrapped her arms around the shivering body she now knew for sure was hiding among the blankets. "What's her name? On what premise should I accept her into my establishment?" Even as Alma asked these questions, she knew, deep within her heart, that she was never giving this child back to the sister who had pushed it into her arms. It was to stay with her, no matter the answer she received.

"Her name is Claire Densmore. And You need to take her, because I can't keep her. She had a brother, you see, and he...he was eaten. By something invisible. Please, you got to believe me, I can't risk it eating her too! Please…they told me you take care of people like her. Protect them." The woman was crying, large terrified eyes moisturising as she begged for her sister's life to a stranger.

 _What about you?_ Alma thought, realising that the only way she could possibly made it into the loop was by being peculiare herself.

"I will take care of your sisters." Alma said calmly, preparing to ask if she had any plans for her own safety, and if necessary explain why it would be of concern. She had the feeling the girl knew very little of peculiarities. "But what about yourself?"

"Me?" Emmeline looked confused. "I can't stay. I got a family back home. I only came here for her...because these beasts were after her…" Her eyes started to water, her voice trembling. "She's all I have left."

"But…" Alma started, startled and confused at what the girl was saying, but never getting a chance to explain.

The girl was already fleeing, running down the hill with both her dress and trench coat flying in the air. Alma stood helpless on the porch and watched her disappear, a sense of dread settling inside her as she realised she was never going to see the woman again.

When the woman disappeared out of sight, Alma turned around, ready to march back inside and close the door behind her. She remained a stoic impression for as long as possible, in case any of her other charges would be near by. It seemed as though they had moved upstairs when she went out to talk to the visitor.

"Claire Densmore " Alma allowed the name to slip over her tongue, tested the way it settled in her mouth. It felt good, satisfying somehow. Peeling off a corner of the pink quilt to get a good look at her new child, Alma was faced with a head full of golden princess curls, falling down the young girl's head down to her shoulders like golden rain. "A princess" She breathed, glancing around to make sure no one heard her.

The girl herself, was petite. Probably six or seven years old but not much bigger than a big five year old. She was dressed in a coat and dress, both of which was obviously too small, and when Miss peregrine opened the package made of fabric in which she'd been put, she discovered that she was sleeping.

"Claire with her golden curls" Alma continued to muse, liberated by the fact that she was alone, and stroking her hand against the golden hair on the back of the girls head. Suddenly she felt something biting down on her finger. The pain was immediate, intense, and she quickly withdrew her hand.

"Miss?" The girl's voice was a mere whisper, still heavy with sleep as she cracked open a heaven's blue eye.

"Yes darling?" Alma answered, momentarily distracted by her bleeding finger. What ever bit her had hurt it severely, and she would surely be forced to keep it wrapped up for weeks.

"Please leave my back mouth alone. It's only for food." Though newly having woken up, the girl sound important and serious in a way only small children could, and Alma cracked a smile.

"I will, Miss Densmore. And welcome to Miss Peregrine's home for Peculiar children"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Soooo by now I have seen the movie twice, and somewhere inebtween updates for this fanfic next week there will be an fanfic or two for that. Untill the, thanks for reweing and favouriting this fanfic, it makes my day.**

 **Fiona Frauenfeld**

Walking down the slithering road through the green summer forest, Alma considered what a peculiar situation she was in. She was currently walking through another Ymbryne's loop, relaxing and taking in the scenery as he feet guided her on the familiare path to the old mansion burried among the trees.

For anyone passing by, it might appear as though she was there for the fun of visiting her sister, but the truth was that she was in fact there in a far more serious matter. She was there to pick up a new charg.

The standard procedure was for a peculiare to be assigned to an Ymbryne when they first came in contact with peculiare society, staying with the Ymbryne for the rest of their lives. Because of that a few misguided Ymbrynes in the past had attempted to 'collect' peculiars of only certain sorts in their loops, often by taking them from other Ymbrynes without their consent, there were neccesary laws that made a peculiare's exchange of Ymbryne a complicated and leghty procedure. The point was for no peculiares to have to switch Ymbrynes at all, if avoidable.

The current situation, however, was very specific, and had called for a change, or more like a temporary excuse, issued by the Ymbryne herself. She needed help.

Miss Amelia Gannett, who's loop Alma was currently passing through, just so happened to be the only Ymbryne keeping a running loop on Ireland, meaning that all peculiares of Irish descent sooner or later would ended up in her care. At a current number of no less than fifty - five peculiars in total, they had unfortunately grown far too many for Miss Gannett, as spectacular as she may be, to handle all on her own. Not being able to get an Ymbryne to help her in the loop, she had finally been forced to resign and give away some of her charges for her sisters to take care of instead.

"What a shame she had to take such drastic actions." Alma whispered to no one in particular, considering the situation and realising how embarassed her sister must be. Though none of her sisters shun her, understanding very well her predicament, as well as the fact that it saw no other solution, Alma still imagined how humiliating it must feel to have to redistribute even but a few of your charges.

"Fiona Frauenfeld, eighteen, born in the eighteen hundreds in Ireland." Alma repeated the words of the note given to her, glancing at the photo that came with it. It showed a short, skinny girl in a black dress with disastrous brown hair that rested on her head like a birds nest in a tree.

The girl in the photo was supposed to be her new charge, Fiona, who she had agreed to take care of when Miss Gannett no longer could. She had originally been warned that the girl was tricky to deal with, shy and guarded because of things that had happened in the past. On top of this, the girl was also said to be voluntarily mute from the trauma that had been her life before her Ymbryne found her. Considering the poor girl had been raised during the great famine, Alma wasn't surprised. A lot peculiars had lost their lives during that era, and it was a miracle in itself that the girl was still alive.

Miss Gannett had tried to distribute some more easily reassigned peculiares at first, but quickly found that this girl still stayed on the list of those who'd she'd have to give a new home in another loop in order to bring down her number of charges, despite the love she held for the child.

Alma had reassured the older Ymbryne she would be fine, this girl hardly being more of a challenge than her second charge, Emma, who had had a habit of letting her bed on fire in her sleep, but it had hardly helped. Her sister remained worried. Still, without much of a choice, Amelia had agreed to let Alma take Fiona with her. Alma only had four other charges, and Miss Gannett resonated that she'd have the time and space necessary to take proper care of her girl.

"Hi Amelia. How are you this fine day?" Alma greeted her fellow Ymbryne sister, smiling happily but feeling her heart drop as her sister answered it with nothing but a small, half-hearted smile of her own. It didn't match Miss Gannets normally extremely cheerful though realistic attitude, and she realised that having to let go of her charges was dragging her down more than she showed.

Alma's sudden concern must have showed on her face, though she hoped it wouldn't, because her sister was suddenly laughing, a more real and honestly happy smile on her lips.

"Don't look so concerned, Am. I've been doing this longer than you. Sure, this will be the third charge I say goodbye to today, but that's just the way life is." She smiled. Amelia Gannett was a large woman in her fifties, pale red hair standing like a frizzy cloud around her head and a million freckles resting on an aged face like paint-stains on a canvas. She was not a very attractive woman, but she had a passionate glow about her and an agreeable yet grounded personality that made her easy to befriend. She was the kind of person that never backed down, but nor did she start any fights unless necessary.

"How many peculiares are you reassigning?" Alma asked, pitying her for having to say so many goodbyes. Her eyes fell on the short-grown eighteen year old girl by Amelia's side which she was supposedly bringing home.

Fiona Frauenfeld was dressed in a simple black dress that hung off her petite frame and went almost all the way down to her feet, combined with an equally big dark blue coat that was largely unnecessary in the warm weather inside the loop, but rather necessary for the winter weather outside the loop. She had a small backpack on her back, too, but it didn't look very full, as peculiares didn't tend to have many personal possessions. She would be a good addition to the their little family, Alma thought, and though she'd have to spend a lot of time on her, surely, it would be more than worth it.

"Twenty five. If I keep only thirty of them, I will have room for a few new ones in the future. Fiona, dear, do you have your notepad and pencil? I told you not to pack it." She looked down at the girl, who nodded, quickly scribbling down a response on a small notepad resting in the pocket of her coat.

 _Yes Miss G. I got it right here._

 _A pleasure to meet you Miss Peregrine._

Alma read the note, smiling. "A pleasure to meet you too, Miss Frauenfeld. I'm sure we're going to get along just fine. However, we do need to get going."

"Good bye, Fiona. Be a good peculiare to my sister. " Miss Gannett hugged her charge, Fiona not as much as blinking when she was pulled into the embrace, and quickly freeing herself when she got the chance.

Alma took this as her cue, turning and walking away, hoping the girl was at her heels. She wanted to keep a stoic impression, but smiled as the girl walked up by her side. Her appearance appeared even more 'wild' up close, but she didn't judge. Fiona hadn't been a part of the Peculiare society for very long, and in her previous situation a good appearance had hardly been top priority. Besides, she had comb and scissors at home. They could fix it when they got to Cairnholm.

 _Do you have any other charges?_

 _Are there any boys?_

 _Are they mean?_

"Read" It was the first and last word Miss Peregrine would hear Fiona say in a very long time, but she did as asked, and read the girl's questions.

"I got four other charges. Two girls, Emma and Claire, and two boys, Millard and Enoch. All of them a very nice people. Enoch is a little grumpy, but I don't think he'll mind you." she certainly hoped the bitter little boy would cause any trouble. He had been picked up from another loop, too, and should be able to feel a little empathy for the poor girl by her side. She hoped.

 _Boys used to throw rocks at me. They said I was a witch. I'm not._

"You most certainly are not a witch. Witches don't exist. And we certainly do not engage is such barbaric actions like throwing stones." Alma said seriously, trying to make her charge feel safer. "If they did they would be severely punished."

After this it would take a while before Fiona answered. Most of the time they just walked in quite, all until the reached the entrance, and prepared to leave the loop.

 _Thank you, Miss Peregrine. I didn't want a new Ymbryne. But you seem nice._

She couldn't mask her surprise as she read the message. She would understand being reassigned and forced to leave her current home would be hard for a girl like Fiona, but she hadn't expected the girl to admit to outright disliking her in the beginning.

"You are very welcome. I hope your going to enjoy your time at Miss Peregrine's home for Peculiar children." She smiled, grabbing her ward by the hand though she was too big to be dragged around, and entered the loop entrance.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wow. I am absolutelt overpowered by the response this fanfic has gotten, so many favourites and reviews** _ **every day.**_ **I can't even comprehend it! Anyway, here is the next chapter, and if you haven't, please check out my other Miss Peregrine stories: 'Wish that you were here' and 'The fire between us'.**

 **I am also writing more Olive x Enoch for anyone intrested.**

 **Olive Abrolhos Elephanta**

"Primitive, rude, normal humans! Peculiars are definitely a hole lot more polite…" Alma muttered angrily, feeling another person 'accidentally' hitting her over shoulders as they tried to push their way past her in the crowd. The market place was far too crowded, far too noise and far too big for Alma's taste, and she hated all of it.

Yet she wasn't here for her own enjoyment. She had come here because her charges had figured out that it was Christmas season again, and started begging her for seasonal food, sweets and gifts. Even though there was no diffrence to the weather or conditions in ther loop, her charges still insisted on celebrating the holidays as best they could, and Alma found herself too weak- hearted to say no.

Therefore, though she made a point never to leave her charges nore the loop alone, she had made an exception to the rule and left Cairnholm for the day so that she could go to the mainland and buy all they needed for their Christmas celebration of sort.

It had taken all of her willpower not to turn around as soon as she sat foot on the mainland, though, but now that she was finally here, she was determined to see it through and make sure she didn't have to return to this god-forsaken place for another year yet. Alma really, really hated being on the mainland.

"I should have just said no to them." She grumbled angrily, knowing all too well that she couldn't do that to them. The pleading eyes of the youngest ones would always reminded her of her little brother, Bertram, and make her broken old heart ache with longing for something she no longer had. At that point she would be ready to promise almost anything to remove that look from their faces, christmas gifts included, and therefore it was easier to just say yes from the very beginning.

She was looking at some black and blue mittens to give to Bronwyn and Victor, knowing very well that they wouldn't get much use for them in the loop, but also knowing that they would prefer something practical over meaningless toys, when something highly peculiar happened.

"Oh! I looove mint-chocolate!" A childish voice squealed near her leg, and Alma saw a tiny hand reaching into her basket and trying to steal the mint-chocolate crisps she bought for Enoch. It was a well-thought out gift that she for once hoped would put the boy in a good mood, and she was certainly not about to let some unmannered child steal it from her.

Alma swatted the tiny hand moving around in her basket hard, and as it retreated she tried to grab onto it's owner, wanting to give them a piece of her mind, only to end up empty handed as the little thief avoided her hand and slipped away. Not having actually seen the child who tried to steal from her, she realised that it would be impossible to catch her again, and she just sight and prepared to move on.

"Ouch, it hurt! I'm not even wearing my mittens. Not to myself: wear mittens." A little voice spoke up close to Alma, and as she recognised it as that of the thief, she quickly looked around to try and locate who might have said it. Her eyes fell on a small blonde-haired girl in a grey coat who was standing a few paces away and examining one of her tiny hands. Obviously, the girl hadn't understood she had been properly caught, as she then would have left the scene, but only though that Alma saw a hand moving around in her basket and swatted it away. Alma wasn't slow to react.

"Hey! Wait there, you little thief!" She exclaimed, quickly running up to the girl and grabbing her by the shoulders so she could pull her aside and away from the crowds. "Don't think I'll let you get away with stealing my children's gifts you…"

Alma lost the rest of the sentence as she finally pulled the girl out of the crowd and noticed that she was, in fact, hovering about a meter above the ground. Her pockets on the thick winter coat was bulging, and when Alma reached into them she found that they were filled with pebbles.

"Please don't remove the stones, they keep me grounded! I don't want to fly off into the sky! I won't steal no more I promise!" The blue-eyed girl begged, bending down to the ground to get another pebble and placing it in her pocket, immediately bringing herself a few centimeters closer to the ground.

"You are floating." Alma mumbled, vaguely aware that she was pointing out the obvious but far too shocked to come up with something else to say. "You're a floating girl."

"Yep" The girl answered. grinning. "I was born like that. Would have flown right out the window if it hadn't been for the umbilical cord. Creepy right?"

Alma shock her head, trying to bring herself out of her stupor and regain her bearing. A floating peculiare was hardly the most peculiar thing she had seen in her days, it shouldn't be that surprising. Besides, an Ymbryne's number one rule was to always keep a stoic impression in the face of a peculiare, no matter how shocking it's peculiarity might be to the Ymbryne.

"No, natural." Alma smirked at the girl, once the shock wore off easily settling into her normal character. "A floating syndrigast is as natural as anything else."

The girl looked at her in confusion, carefully tipping her head to the side in a way that reminded Alma of a confused puppy when it's owner was trying to give it a command,

"A syndri what? I think I'm peculiare. That's what mom said before she made me sleep in the dog house. Only normal children sleep in the real house." The girl explained, uncertain, before righting her head and smiling again. "I'm Olive by the way! Olive Abrolhos Elephanta, like a hurricane whirlwind thing-y, because I fly!"

Alma laughed. It was a light and unfamiliar sound that slipped out of her mouth, and she barely had time to reveal in the realisation of how much happiness this little child brought her so very easily when they were interrupted by someone screaming.

"OLIVE! I TOLD you to stay on the ground! You'll scare people away with your horrible, horrible ways!" A short, blonde woman in her forties came running towards them, ignoring Alma completely as she went on to scold Olive, who Alma assumed must be her daughter. "What would your mother say if she saw you!? This is exactly why she _wouldn't keep you_!"

Alma felt herself go cold inside at the words. Never in her life had she experienced such terrible treatment of a peculiare, and a child at that, in public. It horrified Alma, and she been a normal person she would have reported the woman to the CPS. But she wasn't a normal woman, and instead, Alma promised herself to help the girl through doing what she was meant to: take care of her. She was not going to leave until she convinced the woman to let her care for the child instead.

"Excuse me, but there is nothing horrible about this child!" Alma interrupted the woman, who still hadn't acknowledged her existence, and adding just a little bit of an edge to her voice as she continued. "If you do not to wish to take care of this girl, as I sense you don't, I actually happen to own an establishment for children like her, and would be more than happy to take care of her instead."

The woman immediately became quiet, after Alma finished staring at her if she had two heads. She understood the woman probably thought she was crazy and she couldn't really blame her for her. She had been extremely untactical about the whole deal, she knew that, but the horrific treatment of the child that she witnessed had put her off so to the point that she didn't care about being tactical. The only thing she wanted was to get the child away from her despicable caretaker no matter the cost.

"You want to have her? You _offer me_ to not have to get to deal with all _this_ " The woman asked in disbelief, pointing intendedly at the child she was holding by the wrist. The little girl looked decidedly unhappy and was trying to free her hand. "For _free_?!"

"Yes, I believe that's what I said. And she will be in good company, too, for I got several other _peculiar_ children living there as well. Not that they can all fly, mind you, but they can certainly do spectacular and peculiar things." Alma smiled politely, happy that things was going her way. Normally people were rather vary of abandoning their children, and even more so peculiare ones, but this time it seemed as though all the woman saw was an opportunity to get out of a responsibility.

"When do you have the time to take her? I'll get her to where the establishment is located, don't worry. Just give me a time and a place." The woman rushed, her eyes wide and a dangerous glint caught in them. Alma saw it immediately, like a warning telling her not to leave this child alone with the woman.

She had to take her with her immediately.

"I can take her with me now, if you want to. I'm merely out shopping and I'll be returning to my house and my other charges in just a few hours." She suggested, desperately hoping that the offer would be accepted.

"Take her! She's all yours! As long as I never have to see her ever again!" And with that, the woman let go of Olive, as Alma suddenly remembered the girl called herself, and disappeared. She didn't bother looking where the woman went, instead focusing on the girl and quickly wrapping her arms around her small waist and lifting her up. She wasn't normally a very affectionate woman, but little Olive was throwing everything she usually was out the door and forming her into someone completely new.

"A-are you going to take care of me now?" Olive asked, confused. She had understood the woman holding her and her aunt had reached some sort of agreement, but she didn't quite know what that meant for her.

"Yes. My name is Alma LeFay Peregrine, and you're coming back home with me. You are going to get to meet lots of other peculiare children, and noone is going to call you different or wrong anymore. It's all going to be okay, I promise." Alma had never had a charge so quickly handed over to her. While it made her both happy and sad to see, she was mostly concerned about the little Olive. It was probably very confusing for her and she was afraid that she would scare her. She wanted Olive to feel safe and loved, and even if she had to go out of her comfort-zone and be unusually loving and affectionate, then so be it.

Olive tentatively wrapped her arms around Miss Peregrine's neck, hugging her back. Despite being told all of her life that she wasn't supposed to be this way, she had never been able to feel bad for it, and now that she was going to live with this woman and her weird children, she wouldn't have to."Thank you" She whispered, feeling the woman squeezing her tiny body in response. It's okay, you're safe, she seemed to tell her.

That Christmas, though Enoch loved his mint crisps, and Victor and Bronwyn both adored the colours of their new mittens, it was Miss peregrine who got the best christmas gift of them all: A new charge to take care of in her home for peculiar children.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Again, thank you for all the favourites, follows, and reviews!**

 **A lot of questions I get is if I'm going to write this or that character, which is nice, because like I people taking an intrest, but it frustrate me that a lot of them are guest reviewerts and I can't answer them, so therefor I decided to put out my schedule for the next few chapters here:**

 **Chapter 4 (this one): Hugh Apiston**

 **Chapter 5 : Horace Somnusson (Approximatly v.43, around 30 September to 3 November, prewritten)**

 **Chapter 6 : Bronwyn and Victor Bruntly (Approximatly v.45-46, mid-November, started writing)**

 **Chapter 7 : Millard Nullings or Emma Bloom (Late November to early December, unwritten so far)**

 **Chapter 8: Millard Nulling or Emma Bloom (Early to Mid December, Unwritten as of now)**

 **Hugh Apiston**

"ugh!" Bronwyn groaned, swatting her hand near her head, and Miss Peregrine resisted the urge to do so too, only to give in a second later. It was unrefined and highly unladylike behaviour, Alma knew that, but the bees were as bothersome for her as they were to her children, and she simply couldn't help herself.

A bee flew up and landed on Alma's shoulder, and she tensed, barely daring to breath out of fear that it would sting her. Alma was not an easily scarred woman, but seeing as she was extremely allergic to bees, she couldn't help the panic that hit her when she had to be in areas heavily populated by them. Only one sting could be enough to put her life at risk, and that was something she'd rather avoid.

"Are you okay Miss Peregrine?" Bronwyn asked, the empathic little girl of course having picked up on her headmistress sudden distress.

"I'm…" Alma watched carefully as the bee lifted from her shoulder and flew off into the sky. She sigh. "...Fine."

"She doesn't like bees, genius." Enoch muttered, glaring at his headmistress. "By the way, Miss P, that is a very ridiculous fear!"

At that moment, Alma hated the cynical little boy with all she had. It wasn't often that she outright disliked her charges, but Enoch's comment had hit hard and she felt deeply insulted by him calling her out for something he knew nothing of. It was both disrespectful and embarrassing for her, and she could feel the anger welling up inside.

"Manners, Mr. O'Connor! It's rude to say things like that!" She exclaimed, letting her anger get the best of her as she scolded her charge. "And I am actually not afraid of bees, so you were lying as well!"

She knew that she was really the liar, but she needed to establish rules and boundaries, and it'd be a cold day in hell before she admitted fearing anything in front of her charges. It went against all her opinions and rules she had, both for them and herself.

"So you are okay?" Claire asked, the innocent little girl looking at her with big, pleading eyes from where she was sitting on Victor's shoulders.

"Of course I am. Now, who's up for a nice day in the park?" She smiled, small and reserved as always, holding up their picnic basket for emphasis. No matter what, she was determined not to let her fear of bees destroy her children's afternoon outside the loop.

As a response to her question, the children cheered happily, and soon they were all running around and playing games in the soft grass, as happy and satisfied as could be, while Alma rested in the shadow of a large oak tree.

Occasionally, they pushed each other around or made someone trip, but it was mostly not on purpose, and Alma let it be. Millard and Enoch, however, did trip their friend on purpose several times, and eventually Alma felt as though she needed to warn them of that they would be forced to sit with her and only _watch_ the games if they didn't stop, seeing as they were ruining it for the others with their cheating.

Despite this warning, though, the boys of course continued, and eventually Alma _did_ pull them aside, making the sit down to watch with her and Olive and Claire in the shadow of a big tree. It was a decision that none of the boys liked, but they complied still. They knew better than to go against their headmistress, just as Alma raised them to, and were most likely fearing being sent back to the loop early if they didn't behave.

"This is boring" Enoch complained, visibly annoyed and every now and then swatting his hands around his head to chase of some pesky bees that were also seeking refuge from the sun in the shadow of the tree.

"It is your own fault Mister O'Connor. I would not have put you here if you listened when I warned you." Alma reminded, knowing very well that this was the only way it could have ended anyway, and that he would never have listened to her. But that was why he got punished, too.

"AAAAH MISS P HELP!" Sudden screams pierced the air, and despite protests from her limping leg, Alma quickly got up on her feet. She recognised her charges voices in the mix of terrified noises and shouts, and it made her feel sick to her stomach as she looked for them.

The Hollowgasts could have found them.

What if wights and Hollows were chasing her precious little children at this very moment? Half her children might very well be dead, and all because she decided to get them out of the loop for once. Because she thought a few hours outside wouldn't be as risky as staying out there. She's an Ymbryne for bird's sake! She should have known so much better than to ever leave the loop with her peculiares in tow, as if the Hollowgasts wouldn't care about them, just because they were going back into the loop in a few hours. She was supposed to be old and vise and should know how to not do this kind of mistakes, but she didn't, and now it might have cost her charges their **lives**.

She could feel the tears pressing to come through, but she swallowed them painfully. No battle was lost till you had given up, that's what Miss Avocet taught her, and it was the lesson Alma had come to use the very most while working as an Ymbryne.

"GET THESE BEES AWAY FROM US!" Turning her head to the side at the second shout, she suddenly saw her children come running, screaming and terrified, and she also saw that that the danger was in fact not a wight or a hollowgast, but a huge swarm of bees. They looked like a big, dark cloud plowing to through the sky, and it took all her willpower for Alma not to scream as she was faced with her own worst nightmare. Panicked welled up inside her, but she fought the fight and flight reflex best she could. She couldn't afford to act as though she was a terrified child when her children needed her.

First and foremost, she was always an Ymbryne, even in the face of her greatest fear.

As Bronwyn, who had been at the back of the group, came running past them, Enoch, Millard, Claire and Olive quickly joined her, and so did Miss Peregrine. She tried not to look back as she ran, knowing all too well that if she got stung by but five of all these bees that were currently chasing them, she would be forced to fight for her life as a result. She quickly told the children to pick up the pace as she started looking for a solution, for somewhere they could hide, but felt disappointed as she found none.

They had been having their little outing in a large field, and as a result, closest tree or bush big enough for any of them to hide in was too far away for their already tired group to make it to before the bees were upon them. Returning to the oak wasn't an option, either, as they were chased from behind. They were dropping in speed, and the bees were getting quicker, and soon Alam realised she would have to resign to the inevitable fate of both her and her charges getting stung by all these vermins that were for an unexplainable reason chasing them.

"These bloody things are going to get us stung sooo bad!" Enoch shouted, panting and tired but still angry. "What the hell did you even do to anger them!?"

"We did...ah...nothing!" Bronwyn screamed back, tired and panting too as she was almost coming to a stop. She had long since picked up Claire, who simply couldn't keep running, and the heavy burden was starting to take it's toll on her, even though she had unbelievable strength. Her brother was there by her side, of course, encouraging her to keep running and offering to switch burdens so she was carrying Olive instead, but it was of little help as their energy inevitably were running out. Alma didn't think she would be able to keep running for long, either. With a limping leg was hard as it was, and keeping any kind of speed was painful.

Alma looked ahead, and she could see that they had far too long left to go to get to even the sparsest shelter, and soon they would be standing completely still. They were absolutely doomed, and while she fretted the most for her children, she felt concern for her own safety as well. The children should be able to survive getting stung relatively well, but she might not, and without her, they were all doomed. There was few to no other loops in Wales, and the closest one was as far away as Swansea.

"WAIT GUYS!" A boy's voice suddenly shouted, and though the voice was unfamiliar, she quickly checked all her boys were with them as to rule out that it had been any of the screaming. Enoch, Millard, Victor, and Horace. They were all there and she realised it must have been someone else who shouted, though it sounded like it was meant for her and her children, it couldn't be.

"It came from behind us, from behind the bees! He was talking to the bees!" Olive said, and Alma dared to glance in the direction that the tiny airhead was pointing, back at the wall of bees that had been chasing them.

Only they weren't chasing them anymore. Instead, they had turned to surround a small boy, probably around Enoch's age, who was seemingly controlling them and making them...fly into his mouth? Yes, he was indeed making them fly into his mouth.

"Miss P, why is that boy eating bees?" It's Victor who's asking, his voice kind and his hand barely touching her side as he tried to catch her attention.

"He's...he's not eating them, Mister Bruntly. He's letting them into his body." Alma barely knew what to say. She had seen many peculiarities closely connected to nature, but none quite like this. Perhaps, if she had been any of her other sisters, she would have, but she was such a newly trained ymbryne (one of the few ymbrynes of her generation still alive after the accident they didn't speak of), there was still many peculiarities that she couldn't even imagine in her wildest dream.

"He's storing them...inside him? That's gross!" Claire, who was still hanging from Victor's arm, said, her nose wrinkling as if she was smelling a very foul smell.

"Miss Densmore! We don't say that about other people!" Alma scolded, angered. A peculiare should never look down on someone else's peculiarity, and fi Claire didn't know that, it was more than time for her to learn that.

Being so distracted by scolding Claire, Alma didn't notice the boy approaching the group. In his hand, he was carrying their picnic basket, which Alma in the rush of it all had abandoned under the tree, and as he came up to Alma, he offered it for her to take.

"You forgot your picnic basket, Miss. Wouldn't be right to leave all this food would it?" He said, his voice polite and his face light and honest. He was boy of maybe eleven or twelve, with honey coloured hair and pale green eyes. On his hat he had a pair of old pilot glasses that matched very well his checkered shirt and pants with straps.

"Thank you. I didn't think of taking it, for we got into some trouble with a swarm of bees." She said, her voice equally polite, but a disapproving frown gently resting on her lips. She could tell her charges was watching her and the boy with interest, and that it would be important for her to show dominance over the boy, so that they didn't lose their respect for her.

"Ah, yes, I suppose they were mine. I am truly sorry for any inconvenience that might have caused you Miss…." The Boy trailed off, blushing, not only for what his bees had done, but because he didn't know of Alma's name, either.

"Peregrine. Alma LeFay Peregrine." Had it just been the two of them, Alma would have smiled. Now, she kept her lips stayed a straight line and her voice was reserved and cold as she said her name.

"Miss Peregrine. I didn't mean for my bees to chase you and your charges, I didn't mean for them to leave my stomach. I tried to get them to stop, but they are not always very obedient." The boy explained shamefully, covering at the sight of Alma's imposing stature. He was scared, and though Alma could feel her poor heart break she stood her ground, not letting her sympathy show on the outside.

"Are you working on getting your bees under control?" She asked, crossing her arms and ignoring Millard, who apparently undressed at some point for whatever reason, and now was frequently tugging at her arm, invisible but annoying and distracting still. "I'm not talking to you until you get dressed again, Mister Nullings. It's not proper." Her voice got even colder as she said this, because, honestly, Alma did _not_ have the energy to deal with a boy of fourteen who should know what a dress code was by now but didn't.

The little boy with the bees looked up, curious, obviously trying to see who the second comment had been meant for, but of course seeing no one, as Millard was either invisible or not there at all. It was hard to tell when he was undressed, but his masked presence itched in the back of her brain and she assumed he'd backed to the back of the group and was hiding there now.

"I'm training my bees as best I can. I don't expect you to know, but it's a bit tricky. Who were you talking to? There was noone there."

Alma smirked, mischievous and happy, when she heard the last comment. He was a smart kid, this boy with his bees . "His name is Millard Nullings, and he's invisible. Like to undress himself to make it impossible to know where he is, but I try to teach him it's not good manners to do so." Alma's smile widened, she loved her precious little children so much, even when they did things that she couldn't do nothing but disapprove of. It was a love that she tried to hide, but that still burned in her chest every second of every day. It was her purpose. "Boys will always be boys, I suppose."

"But...shouldn't that be weird? That he's invisible, I mean, just like the bees in my stomach is really weird?" The boy, who still hadn't presented Alma with his name, asked, his face twisting in confusion. While he seemed intrigued with the idea of an invisible boy, he was having trouble wrapping his head around the concept.

"Who said you having bees in your stomach is something weird or different? In my home, everyone is like you! Well, not in the sense that they have bees in their stomach, but that they are peculiare." She smiled. It was obvious this boy did not yet have a home among peculiares, and though it would complicated, Alma figured she wouldn't mind welcoming him to her family. All they had to make sure was that he didn't get her stung by one of the bees.

"So, you're like a big family made up of weird people? Are you weird too?" The boy seemed to only have been more confused as Alma attempted an explanation, but once again she could see that he was intrigued. He didn't know how it was possible, but it interested him.

"I am an Ymbryne. My job is to protect 'weird' people like you and my children from monsters who wish for nothing more than to kill you and eat you, so that they can evolve to monsters even worse." Miss Peregrine allowed her voice to drop, become serious and just slightly frightening, for she wanted to make him understand the gravity of what she did. It was still a fight not to crack when she talked, the memories vivid even after so many years, but she succeeded in keeping her calm. "I can manipulate time, as well as turn into a bird. The former I use to create safe heaven frozen in time, a span 24h repeated in infinity. These places can't be reached by monsters, and they are safe."

"You're their protection? You keep them safe in this moment looped in infinity?" The boy asked, sounding baffled and i pressed and something else that Alma didn't know what it was.

At the mention of Cairnholm, their loops and Alma looking over them, the children moved closer to Alma, and she bent down to pick up Claire and Olive on each of her arms as the younger of the two was tugging at her skirt and reaching out in a way that signaled that she wanted to be carried. They quickly snuggled close to her chest when she held them up, she smiled a motherly smile. "Yes, I am their protector. I help those who got everything taken from them get something else in return." Alam had never felt so happy as she did their, in her right element, a soft little girl child rested on each of her arms like life-sized porcelain dolls.

"Can...can I come with you? I really don't have anywhere to be because my parents threw me out a few days ago. They told me they'd gotten tired of getting stung by bees all the time. Even if it was an accident." The boy hung his head, and Alma felt empathy welling up inside her. Another child, abandoned by their loved ones because of being a syndrigast. She herself held a similar back story, and in her mind she wondered when the madness of human minds would stop. When they would stop denying their own children's existence to be able to fit into the idea of a 'normal family'.

"If you so wish, but you will have to try to keep you bees in check for everyone's benefit. If you think you can do that, then you are welcome into our peculiare family." Alma smiled. Once more, her little family had gotten another member, who was goin to bring them all hapiness for years to come. This time, it wasan extraordinarily peculiare boy named...Alma stopped. She'd never asked for the boy's name, nor had the boy introduced himself.

She didn't know the boy's name.

"My name is Hugh, by the way. Hugh Apiston."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sooo, here we go, another chapter. Please review! Also, this is the very last one of my pre-written chapters, meaning that the next one isn't fully written yet, and it will take a while before it gets published, but hopefully nto more than a few weeks depending on amount of homework etc**

 **Horace Somnusson**

Alma LeFay Peregrine looked down at the thin paper sheets in her hands, and then up at the huge estate infront of her, comparing the adresses and double checking that she was in the right place. Today, she was otu on a mission that was like nothign she had ever done before.

She was visiting a young married couple who had used contacts in the peculiar world to come in contact with an older Ymbryne named Miss Finch, desperately begging for her to try and help their son. In the letter from them that Miss Finch gave to Alma, they had not specify any details about their son or his presumed peculiarity, but Alma was fully prepared to bring the boy with her home at the end of the day. Sadly, not many peculiars had the luxury of staying with their families for very long.

With a last sigh and still trying to kill the butterflies flittering around in her stomach, Alma stepped up to the door and knocked on its wooden surface. The effect was immediate, and within moments she heard feet moving across the floor on the other side, a squeamish girl voice calling out.

"Coming, just a moment!"

As promised, a moment later a black haired girl dressed in a servant's uniform appeared in the doorway. She looked young, hardly more than fifteen or sixteen, certainly not older than eighteen, and for some reason she seemed to recognise Alma as she immidiatly ushered her inside the house.

"You must be Miss Finch! Mr and Mrs have been waiting for you!" She spoke fast and with a distinctly non-english accent, continuing before Alma had an opportunity to correct her. "Just wait here for a while, I'll go get Mr and Mrs. They've been looking forward to meeting you!"

"Alright, I will." Alma said, her manners forgotten as she felt slightly dazed. The day had already been quite long, as she had to travel all the way to London from Wales before reaching the Somnusson estate, and now, being assumed to be Miss Finch, she realised that she was sure to have a long day infront of her still .

Sometime being an Ymbryne ment that you simply had to go beyond your own limitations and do more than you thought you could in order to ensure comfort and happiness for the peculiars around you.

"Excuse me, are you Miss Finch? The woman who has care of peculiar children?" A young woman's voice spoke up from behind her, and before turning around, Alma allowed herself to roll her eyes at the woman who she was yet to meet. It was highly un-lady like to do so, of course, but the woman's question deserved such a reaction. _The woman who has care of peculiar children_. That's what they all were, all twelve Ymbrynes who, along with their loops, were currently located somewhere within Great Britain. They were women who had care of peculiar children.

"Alma LeFay Peregrine, a pleasure to meet you." Ignoring the woman's earlier question, Alma turned around and introduced herself, concluding that it was better to start off on a clean slot and clear up the clear missunderstanding that had already occured.

"Excuse me…Miss Peregrine was it? I'm Mrs Somnusson. And I don't think… we were expecting a Miss Finch… not some other bird!" The woman smiled, laughing nervously as she carefully grabbed Alma's hand and shock it. Mrs. Somnusson was a blonde, blue eyed woman in her thirties who had dressed in a fluttery summer dress and heavy jewelry. She was a clear trophy wife, probably to a much older husband, and a type of person Alma normally wasn't very fond of, but she tried not to judge her.

She was here to he,p a child, not to look down at it's parents.

"I am very well aware you were expecting my sister, not me, but seeing as she is retired from her craft, she asked me to come in her stead." She explained, and though the woman seemed less confused, Alma could see she was still hesitant, maybe not really believing Alma's story.

"Well, alright...I suppose if you can do what your _sister_ would have done, and help our Horace, than you're more than welcome." The woman sighed quietly, giving Alma a polite smiel before turning to walk up the stairs. "Come this way, I'll show you to Horace's room."

Alma nodded and followed suit. She hadn't quite known what to expect when she first arrived at the estate. Few parents actively sought out help for their peculiar children, and fewer yet actually reached someone who could help them. When she came in, she had been prepared to bring the boy with her home, but based off what she'd seen from , she was starting to hope that maybe it wouldn't be neccesary. Maybe, just maybe, this boy could be one of the few peculiars who got to have a happy ever after with their family.

"So, can you tell me some about Horace peculiarity? The letter you sent did not contain many details." She asked politely, in all honesty feeling quite curious. She had spent the trip from Wales to London trying to figure it out, but found it impossible. Peculiarities came in as many variations as there were people on Earth, and each peculiarity could come out in thousands of different shapes and forms. There simply was no guessing if you didn't know already.

"He has prophetic dreams of the future. They torment him, making themselves known in the form of nightmares that chase him even when he's not sleeping." A tall, proud man met them at the top of the stairs, and from the way seemed to gravitate towards him, Alma assumed that he was the boy's father, her husband.

"It's only gotten worse this few years, and we're at loss for what to do. We can't hide it anymore, not when it can come over at a moments notice, and there simply is no explaining what happens to him. People would assume him to be crazy!" The woman pitched in, trying to be helpful but getting a critical eye from her husband.

"My wife is making it sound worse than it is. I am sure there will be something you can do to help him. To cure him." The man smiled an encouraging smile, but Alma felt herself unable to answer it as she realised what he was saying. "Is there an issue, Miss Finch?" His question question was polite, bot she could see the concern in his eyes as he looked at her.

"First of all, I am not Miss Finch, neither the older nor the younger one. My name is Alma LeFay Peregrine, and I was sent here in my retired sisters stead." Alma was starting to get frustrated, disliking the fact that her sister had not warned the family that she was sending someone else in her stead, but tried to move on regardless. "Second of all, I can't _cure_ your son, it's impossible. Being a syndrigast comes from a recessive gene carried down through families, randomly appearing in some of the children in some generations. You can learn to handle it, but not cure it."

"You can't make it….go away? He's going to...going to be like _this_ , for the rest of his life? " exclaimed desperatly, her hands clapped over her mouth and terrified eyes moving between Alma and her husband, who seemed to have frozen in shock.

"I, ah, I can't say for certain. I have never seen a peculiare whose abilities has disappeared, though they may become less intense. It's very individual really, and it's hard for me to know when I haven't met your son." Alma quickly backtracked, scared that she would be doing both they boy and herself an un-favour if she continued her line of thought. It wasn't like she was lying, anyway, as every case was indeed individual, and the symptoms described was rather non-descriptive for a peculiarity

"Of course." The man smiled, eyes sharp and dangerous. His kind and polite manner was blown away, and Alma felt herself become vary. When she first came to the house they had seemed like understanding and loving parents, but now she wasn't so sure. "Lucy, will you show her to Horace room?" He glanced over at his wife, who gulped nervously and nodded.

"Of course dear. This way, Miss Peregrine." 'Lucy' turned to walk away, heading down the hallway and waving for Alma to follow her. She obeyed, of course, if only for the sake of the peculiar boy contained within the estate, and used the drawn out moments of silence as they walked to gather her composure. Lucy was obviously too scared to talk, and Alma felt nervous- she wasn't that experienced, and she had gotten a hard case to work with.

"Here it is. Please be nice to my son, he.." Lucy didn't finish the sentence, for as she opened the door, they were faced with a sight that Alma was sure would come to haunt her for years to come.

In a chair by the window, there was a tiny boy. He was hardly more than twelve or thirteen, skinny with dark green eyes and blonde hair. He was dressed up in a full suite, and at the moment of their entry he was sitting rigid in the chair and staring out into nothingness, a silent scream on his lips.

"Oh no, not again! Horace!" His mother ran up to him immediately, desperatly embracing her motionless son and whispering things in his ear, that Alma assumed was ment to help birng him out of his stupour, but didn't appear to have any immidiate effect.

For a few minutes, that's how they stayed. Alma stood by the door, watching how the mother kept trying to interact with her non-responsive child, and 'Lucy' kept trying to bring her son out of his stupor with little result. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the boy screamed, quickly coming to life and instinctively trying to free himself from his mother.

"Horace it's alright!" She exclaimed, desperately trying to hold on tightly to her son. "It's just me, you're mother. Everythig's alright!"

"I know! It wasn't that bad mom!" The boy protested, finally succeeding in getting free from his mother's grip. "It wasn't that bad...not this time...just what we're getting for lunch." Despite this, the boy saged in his chair, tired and lifeless as if having the vision physically drained him, which it might as well have.

"Alright, if it was just lunch…" His mother responded hesitantly, letting go. Then she looked at Alma, as if though just now remembering she was there. "Oh! Horace, this is Miss Peregrine. She's here to help you with her nightmares. Just, be nice and behave okay? I'll be in the livingroom."

She smiled at the boy, who smiled back, nodding in acknowledgement of what his mother was saying, but not actually answering her. didn't seem to mind, though, as she gave Alma another comforting smile and ran out the door, leaving her alone with her son.

After they had been left alone, Alma wasn't really sure what she was supposed to do. She wanted to ask the boy about his abilities, trying to gather details, but he seemed so tired, and she wasn't sure if he would be able to..

"You're going to sit down on my bed, either now or in five minutes. Your going to ask me about my talent. I already know you're going to do it, so go ahead." The boy, Horace, smiled, and Alma did as he said. As an Ymbryne she wasn't used to be given orders, beside those from other Ymbrynes, but this case wasn't normal and as such Alma listened.

"Seem you are more prepared for this meeting than me." Miss Peregrine said in all seriousness, attempting a loopsided smile but failing miserably. She was rarely good at the emotional bit of social interactions (though many people she knew begged to differ) and when she did made it work, it ran on pure instinct and impulsiveness. "But now, if I'm to help you, I need to know what I'm dealing with. Details, please."

The boy sigh, a matureness and depth appearing in his eyes, which did not match his age. In a way, it reminded her of Enoch and his extreme maturity and bitterness, but this was softer and warmer and more welcoming.

"I've been having my dreams since I was six years old. I'm thirteen, almost fourteen now. I told my parents of them when I was eight or ten. I don't remember exactly, but it was around there I started to dream when I wasn't asleep, too, and couldn't hide it anymore." the boy explained, the tiredness disappearing from his features and his back straightening. "I've been dreaming of **you** since I was eleven."

"Of me?" She knew she shouldn't have been surprised, it was more than obvious the boy had at least one dream of her, but she was still a bit shocked. Three years was a long time, and it was almost creepy to imagaine someone having known of her for three before she even met them. "But how did you know it was going to be me, and not Miss Finch? She's who your parents sent after."

The boy laughed, a small smile on his face. "Good one. I didn't. There was two scenarios, one where the visitor was a frail, elderly woman with a Finch on her shoulder, and one where you came instead."

"So it was either me, or Miss Finch and her aunt?" Alma asked, trying to wrap her head around the concept, but thinking she understood what he was saying. The boy, though, was obviously not understanding what _she_ was saying, furrowing his brow and getting a confused look on his face as she asked her control question.

"No" He protested, perplexed and frowning. "There weren't two people. It was either you, or the other woman with a bird on her shoulder."

"But...you said she had Finch on her shoulder?"

"Yes, so?" The boy shrugged, clearly not seeing the issue. That's when it hit Alma. The boy had been so commanding, had seem to know so much about her, that she had started to talk with him as if he knew of the inner workings of peculiar society. Only he didn't. He acted as if he did, because his dreams provided him with details, but in large he knew very little of anything peculiar and Alma had forgotten that.

"The bird is Miss Finch aunt, Miss Finch. Our peculiarity, me and them, it's being able to turn into a bird, as well as manipulate time. The older Miss Finch always prefered staying in her bird form, which was just as well, really, for she was never much of a conversationalist." She hurried to explain, feeling embarrassed. The workings of an Ymbryne´'s peculiarity was such a common knowledge that she had forgot the boy couldn't possibly know, as he wasn't a part of their community yet,

"Oh" The boy's face opened up in surprise and joy, but soon faded into sudden shyness. "Does that mean you become a falcon? A Peregrine falcon, like your name? "

There was something about the way the boy now looked at her that made her uneasy. His gaze was sharp and focused and she could imagine the boy picking her apart in his mind, dissectign her in order to fidn the falcon that she was supposed to be able to turn into. She didn't know what to do, and felt as though she suddenly was the child, not him.

 _If he wants to see that falcon so badly, maybe you should show him the falcon._

It was a preposterous thought, she knew, and any Ymbryne older and wiser than her would immediately have written it off. But not her. She was young and unaccustomed and entirely overpowered by a thirteen year old peculiare with powers that wasn't like anything she had ever seen before.

"Boy, do you want to see something amazing?" She looked at him challengingly, narrowing her eyes and avoiding blinking, knowing very well how bird-like it made her look, and she could see the boy smile. It was hesitant and a little scared, but it was there.

"Yes." The boy breathed, no longer picking her apart with his gaze. "But only if you use my name and call me Horace." There was giddiness in his voice, anticipation and curiousity. Alma knew he would make her show him her 'amazing secret' even if she didn't agree to call him by his name, but figured it was only fair to do that anyway.

"Alright, Horace. I will show you. **But** you must promise one thing." She let her voice drop, made sure he understood the importance of her condition.

"Anything!" Horace breathed, excited and overjoyed. "Absolutely anything!"

"When I show for you to do so, you must hold up my dress. It will all make sense then, trust me." She said, seeing the slight confusion on his face but getting a determined nod still. She know she was makign it otu to look very dramatic, but it was infact very important. She couldn't imagaine the reactions she'd get if Horace's parents came back and found her naked in the room with their son. It owuld be catastrophical.

"Yes." He answered, and she took it as her que. Stretching, extending her limbs and straightening her back until they were all tense and shaking with effort, she let her head fall backwards and and allowed the primal instincts at her core to take over, making her body transform until there was nothing human left except the dark blue dress resting in a heap on the floor beneath her claws.

She felt free, freer than she ever did as a human. It felt like it was this form she had always been meant to have, and that the human part of her was simply a mistake that was never meant to be. It was at times like this that she understood why Miss Finch preferred to stay a Finch, though she could never consider such a thign herself.

"Remarkable! You really _did_ turn into a falcon. A Peregrine falcon!" The boy's gleeful shouts brought her back to reality, and forced Alma to focus. She didn't turn into a bird for her own enjoyment, after all, even if it did feel good to let go of her human attributes.

With a loud screech, she swept around the room in a perfect circular pattern. Wings flapping and feathers brushing against the walls in every turn, she watched as the boy followed her around the room, now up on his feet and running around, faster and faster until she decided that the show was over and that he had seen enough.

 _Hope Horace remembers his promise_

She dived down towards the dress, catchign some of the fabric in her beak and pulling at it to signal that she wanted him to lift it up. Thankfully, Horace understood what she wanted immediately. Running the few meters between him and the dress, he picked up the heavy dark blue garment and held it out in front of him.

"Promise I won't look." He said, clenching his eyes shut as she landed inside the dress, carefully reaching out and connecting herself with the human part of her mind, letting it back in control as she felt her body grow and fill out the dress more and more until she was standing there, looking like she never took it off.

"You can look now." She said, and the boy opened his eyes slowly, one by one just to make sure that it really was safe to do so, a precaution that made her laugh. He was such a little gentleman.

"That really was amazing. I mean, it was good in my dreams, but nothing beats reality!" Horace smiled, his eyes filled with awe and admiration at what he had just witnessed. "So when am I coming wiht you?"

"Excuse me?" She was shocked. They had gotten so distracted by the bird subject, that she had entirely forgotten that she was supposed to evaluate the boy and his peculiarity. Now, the boy was for some reason expecting her to bring him with her home, just like that."Who said you are coming with me?"

She had been prepared to bring the boy home, that much was true, but she only wanted to use it as a last resort, preferably letting him stay with his parents if possible.

"I've been dreaming of this since I was eleven. My parents think I only have nightmares, and while I do have a lot of them, I have good dreams too. Like the dreams of you and your family." His smile changed, it was smaller, more dreamlike than anything, and Alma felt herself smiling too. "I dream of a girl with fire at her fingertips, a boy who can resurrect the dead, and a girl with a mouth in the back of her head. Thsoe are your children, I know that, adn I know that I belong among them."

He was talking about all of her children, she realised. He was talking about Emma, and Enoch and...she didn't know who the girl with the mouth in the back of her head was, but she supposed she was a charge she would once come to have, a little child she hadn't met yet.

He dreamt about her home and her children, and about a future where it's his home and he's her child, too.

"You want to come with me." She said, and he nodded. There was such determination in his eyes, telling her that he wanted this more than anything. He was cursed and haunted by something, that no one in the normal world could ever hope to understand. Normal people couldn't grasp the idea of this great gift tah the had, what it gave him and what it took from him, it was a concept beoynd their understanding. If she left him here with his family, he would be doomed to a life of solitude and ozstaricaiton.

His only hope of an even remotely normal life, was to come with her.

"In that case, with you well-being in mind, I judge it necessary for you to come and live with me and my children in our home." She said it with all seriousness, but as Horace hugged her tight, she smiled, feeling her heart beat with empathy and love deep inside. It wasn't going to be easy to break it to his parents that she was taking their son away, but if any decision she had ever made was right, it was this one.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: First off, the nromal thank you's. This is by far my most popular story, and I love writing for you. Sadly, because I got school, updates will be slow and I will push them out whenever I can, but I got homework to think of, and I also write many one-shots, so in the mean time please check them out, and I will update when I can.**

 **Bronwyn and Victor Bruntley**

"RUN BRONWYN!"

The first thing that reahed Alma's ears as she stepped out of the loop entrance, was screaming. From the relative calm of having tea with with her sister Ymbryne, Miss Nightjar, in her loop, to a sudden situation of screaming and sheer panic, Alma could immidiatly feel the adrenaline pumping through her body as her mind switched to defense mode with a trained automaticy. Her body got riggid and tense, and she was, of course, ready to protect her children at any cost, doing whatever was neccesary to keep them safe.

Only her children wasn't there beside her, but the screaming had in the confusion of it all tricked her into beliving they were. Alma could recognise a child's screaming anywhere, even if it didn't come from any of _her_ children, and realising it had been someone else's child did nothing to calm down her raicing heart beat and panting breath, because the danger remained, and so did the child. Alma barely had time to start looking around for the source of the screaming, the child, when another of it's screams reached her ears.

"WATCH OUT MISS!" It was a boy calling her, and she could see him running for her as she threw herself on the ground to avoid a large garbage bag hitting her over the head, followed by a animalistic roaring that sent chills down to her spine. The sound was so familiar Alma, seemingly pushing all the air out of her lungs as she tried to stand up once more on wobbly, aching legs, and she didn't even have to notice that she couldn't see the monster to know what it was, because it had been chasing her in her ngightmares for longer than a life time-

It was a hollowgast, an empty monster who's creation and existance had wrecked not only Alma's own ,but a never ending number of other peculiars lives as well.

It was the first and only thing Alma had ever wanted to kill, to make herself guilty of cold-blooded murder because of.

The skiny brown haired boy that suddenly came into view before Alma was being chased by a hollowgast, which of course must mean that he was peculiar, and though she had no idea how, he must be one of Miss Nightjar's charges who somehow manaeged to escape her loop.

The invisible beast let out a second, powerful and absolutely terrifying roar, and Alma saw two trashcans approximately five hundred meters away from her and the boys current position tipped over, warning them of how very close the monster was. Hollows were said to be huge, and considering how narrow they ally was, it wouldn't take more than a few steps for the beast to reach them.

The boy seemed to notice this, too, because suddenly he was in an extreme hurry, ignoring Alma and instead putting all his focus on something or someone on his other side.

"Wyn, you need to hide. Now!" As the boy grabbed her by the hand, opening a container and helping her climb in, Alma for the first time noticed the brown haired girl standing beside him. The little girl appeared younger than the boy, but overall they looked very similar, and Alma assumed they must be siblings or relatives.

She wondered how two of Miss Nightjar's charges could have escaped the loop, the loop for all the hard cases, where the charges were guarded like low-penelty prisoners and not even allowed to as much as unlocking the door or taking one step outside the house without tellign their Ymbryne first.

"Be careful Victor!" The little girl sniffled as the boy closed the lid to the container, wedging an empty carton in between it and the edge so that it wouldn't close completely and the girl could still breath inside. "Please!"

Though the boy must have heard what she was saying, he made no attempt to acknowledge his sister's words as he instead turned to focus on Alma, speaking. "Miss, you need to get out of here! I know it doesn't seem like it, but there's a monster there, and it's going to kill you if you stay!" The boys voice was hurried and persistent, grabbing Alma's arm and tugging at it as he tried to make her move.

A third roar erupted, even closer than before, and as the boy let go of her and suddenly, fearfully tried to back away from where he heard the sound, Alma made her choice. She had to defend the boy and his sister no matter the cost, and if she survived, she'd return them to the loop and have a talk with her Ymbryne sister about letting out her wards.

Alma had of course never confronted a hollow before, it was too dangeorus to even consider if there is any other option, but now she was forced to. Faintly, for a brief moment, she think of her childrne, her wards, who she might never get to see again. She would have felt scared at the thought, btu she knew she needed to protect the children with her here, and hopefully her sister ymbryne Miss Glassbillow who were currently watchign them would give them good homes if she didn't return.

An Ymbryne didn't leave peculiar children behind, not ever, and it didn't matter if they were hers or not. Peculiar chidlren was what she prioritized above all.

"What are you waiting for you?! You need to run!" The boy is screaming, jumping to the side as a ball of trash is flung through the air, and Alma doesn't waste a moment turning into a bird, flinging herself at the beast (she hoped) with her claws ready, suddenly burrowing them into something sickeningly soft that told her she hit her target, the hollowgast.

It is hard to fight something you can't see, but Alma attacked it best she could, thinking of the children and how she must protect them. With claws and beak she scratched and pecked, furiously attacking it again and again and simultaneously trying to avoid it's arms and tentacles reaching for her, knowing it will probably be her death if she let them capture her, but knowing ti would eb the children's death if she stopped attacking.

The one time she dare to look back at the child who she is trying to protect, she can see the terror on his face, big blue eyes carefully watching her as she prepared to make another attack at the monster who, despite Alma's continuous assaults, hadn't given up yet.

Only the last attack didn't go as planned, and suddenly, Alma felt something big and wet hitting her directly in the face, pushing her bird form back against a brick wall, pain coursing through her every muscle and preventing her from moving as much as a feather when she roughly landed in a heap on the ground.

"MISS!" If they boy had been terrified before, it was nothing compared to the way he looked when he rushed over to her lifeless form lying in the street. She tried to get up to greet him, but it only resulted in her falling over on her back and a sudden jolt of pain that had her screaming though she tried not to. "Miss! Did the monster hurt you?"

She wanted to tell him to go away, to run, because she could already tell that this hope situation was a trap, and that the invisible monster was a lot smarter than she thought, but the fact that she in bird form, limited to speaking like a bird and with intense, incapacitating pain radiating throughout her body made her unable to.

For a split second, she thought of the monster that had hurt her, and she allowed herself to wonder who it had used to be. Maybe it was Caesar, the Greek boy who could extend his tongue as far as he wished. He had had a twin sister, and he always said he was fighting for her right not to have her peculiarity compared to an Ymbryne's. He had been so, so smart, but still not smart enough to see what her brothers had been doing.

His sister's screams as she, like all of the rest of them, realised she lost someone she loved still haunted Alma.

The vision of all of them gathered in that room, the friends and family and loved ones of these beast, about to get the horrible news, was a picture that never stopped haunting her.

The sudden warmth of two steady hands circling her pain-stricken body snap her out her thoughts, and she realise the boy didn't get eaten yet, and that maybe it wasn't a trap.

Maybe the Hollowgast was as stupid as they had originally thought.

The last thought leave her a moment later when they boy suddenly cry out, throwing her into the air as he is trying to move away from the monster which now seemed to be approaching him.

Once she'd been thrown by the boy, Alma had to fight to stay in the air, because her left wing is hardly cooperating, pain coursing through her body every time she flapped the wing, and at the same time she is trying figure out how to aid the boy.

The fight with the hollow has been going on long enough that Alma's emptied her brain on most ideas for what she could do, and yet it was still far from dead and she didn't know if she would even be able to try any of the old tricks again, but still she can't abandon the poor children.

"LEAVE THE NICE PEOPLE ALONE YOU MEAN IDIOT MONSTER THING!"

The fight end suddenly, so suddenly that she can't even register what's happening until she's once more crashing against the ground, landing in a pool of sticky liquid next to a metal trash can. After a second, it hit her that the trash can hit the hollow, and the substance coating it's feathers is blood.

Suddenly repulsed, she get up on shaking legs, and she look around, looking for whoever threw the trash can, but only seeing the children she'd been protecting in the end on the ally, the younger girl no longer hiding in the dumpster, but instead crying into her brother's chest, face red and her fists curling into the fabric of his shirt.

Carefully, she limp towards them, surprised at herself as she know her limp normally doesn't show when she's in bird form.

When the girl see her coming, she abandon her brother and rush to pick up Alma. Alma is thankful, relaxing, finally relieved from some of the pain, but also terrified.

All Ymbrynes and peculiars alike knew, that being hurt could lock you in bird form.

Alma needed to try and regain human form, need to prove to herself that she's is not stuck, the bare thought of it making her restless and claustrophobic. She loved being a bird, it was freedom to her, and at first she could imagine being that way forever, but eventually she'd feel claustrophobic and wanting nothing but to change back.

She had never been unable to change back.

"Is she really that woman? Look at that wing, it's all bent out of shape! What did it do to her?" The little girl fretted over Alma's beaten form, and now Alma really wanted to reform, because no one had ever fretted for her, and she hated.

"It hit her with one of its arms, I think, but it's not that bad. Don't worry Bronwyn. It's probably just twisted, broken at worst, if she'd regain human form." The boy is patting her broken wrong, and Alma screech, because it hurt, and anyone should be smart enough to figure out it's a bad idea to pat a twisted or broken wing on a bird.

"Cut it Victor! You hurt her! And if it's just twisted then why won't she became human Victor? What if she can't Victor!" The girl, Bronwyn, is fretting again, visibly distressed and hugging Alma close to her chest as she talks to her brother, Victor.

"What if she needs her dress? She left it on the ground. What if she's like, naked, when she reform and she doesn't want to reform without her dress?" Victor suggest, walking over to her dress and picking it up, showing it off to his sister. "Put her inside the dress and see if she reforms."

Bronwyn gingerly does as her brother says, and to Alma's great relief put her down inside the dress, given her as safe way to reform. She was impressed the boy figured it out, and even happier that he got his sister on board with the idea.

Once the younger girl had carefully placed her inside the dress, Alma reached out for the human part of herself, happy to find it safely there where it should be, and she slowly let it take over and try to regain her human form.

It's not as hard as she feared it would be, not really, not until she reach the hurted left wing. It's like hitting a brick wall, and knowing you have to get through it in order to continue. It try to fight her, to stop her from changing forms, but she stubbornly refus to stay as a bird, and in the end she is standing there in front of the two children, a fully reformed human.

The children, especially the girl, is cheering on her as she return, and when she turn around, she smile at them, unsure what to say.

"Well I am glad that that is over. You two should consider yourselves lucky, few ever meets a Hollow and live to tell the tale." She smile again, trying to keep her arm as still as she can with the pain still coursing through it.

"A what?" The boy asked, looking looking honestly confused. "The thing Bronwyn threw the trash can at?"

The little girl is beaming with pride when they boy mention her throwing a trash can, and Alma blink in surprise. She knew, of course, that one of them must have thrown it, but would have guessed for the boy, rather than the girl, for the later was so small.

The girl couldn't be more than six or seven, and yet, there she stood, successfully having defeated a Hollow.

"A Hollowgast, yes. Surely Miss Nightjar told you of them?" Alma continue, trying to ignore the offhand comment about the girl throwing the trash can.

"Miss who?" This time, the girl is looking confused, and so does Alma. She had assumed the children were escaped from her sisters loop, but evidentially they did not know of her name.

"You don't have an Ymbryne yet? You don't live with any other peculiars?" The realisation that these children might, in fact, not have an Ymbryne at all hit her suddenly and upon her question the children nodd.

"We live on our own. We haven't had a family for four years, Bronwyn killed our step dad when she was four." The older boy explained, the girl's expression becoming grim upon the mentioning of the fact that she killed a man.

"He was really mean and hit us!" She explained, and Alma felt her heart aching. She, too, had known the feeling of being abused by her loved ones, both her father and her brother.

It was hard not to cry right at the moment, when she stood there, eye to eye with two children who shared a past all too similar to her own, telling a story that hit far too close to home. She wanted nothing more than to protect them, to be a beacon of hope in their dark world, and she hoped that she could achieve that if she could convince them to join her little family

"How would you like a new family? Mine is still looking for some new members, especially some who posses powers like no ordinary human have ever dreamed of." She smile, opening her arms, and before she knows it, she got two tiny bodies pressed against hers, one pair of arms looping her waist and the other one her leg as they hugged her.

"So you will adopt me and Bronwyn?" The boy, Victor, look at her in all seriousness, still not loosing his hold of her waist, almost acting ad though he feared she'd run away if he did.

"Yes. I will." Alma said, nodding, bending down to pick up Bronwyn in her arms and trying to grab the boy's hand as she turned to walk out of the alley, ignoring the pain i nthe arm she offered him. It wasn't the time to bother about personal injuries. "My name is Alma LeFay Peregrine, and from now on, your a part of my family."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: GAH! You have no IDEA how hard I tried to make this chapter. It was sooo hard. I have no idea when the next chapter (MIllard) will come, but maybe not until Jnauary because I need a good idea and time and i have neither, especially since there is lots of other stories to be written (got a oneshot probably ocmign soon)**

 **I do hope you can forgive my slow updates but at leats it is not abandoned it is always worked on i promise**

 **Also, I notice I feature a lto fo Ymbrynes in my stories, including this one. It is because a) I am obssesed with these underrated characters and b) When finding new charges i do believe other Ymbrynes can be important sources and helping hands.**

 **Emma Bloom**

"Am! You came! Thanks the birds for that." The Bluejay in the huge oak tree screeched, landing next to the Peregrine Falcon on the tree branch that stretched out over the roof of a blue abd red circustent

"No problem, Lilly. So what are we dealing with? You talked about a female peculiar selling peculiar children, yes?" The Peregrine Falcon croaked in response, looking down at the brightly coloured Circus tent. Miss Peregrine, the human identity of the falcon, had been contacted just a few days earlier by Miss Bluejay, who wanted her help catching a Peculiar woman well known for kidnapping peculiar children and selling them. "Is she going to take someone from the circus?"

The Bluejay nodded. "Tonight. My source says she's been in contact with a girl, around thirteen, who work as a fire-eater here, offering her a new job. The girl said yes. Most likely it's not the job the girl imagined."

The falcon nodded slowly, listening to what the other bird was saying. "And what do you need me for? I'd be more than happy to take care of the girl once this whole ordeal is over, I know you got a full house, but I don't see why it would require me being here now."

"I need you because the woman already know me. She tried to steal two of my children a few months back, and it was just barely that I managed to get them back before she shipped them off to god knows where." Lilly explained, and even though they were in bird form, Alma could see the fear in her eyes. She couldn't imagine the feeling of having to rescue some of your children from one of these types, it must have been a truly horrid experience."Anyway, the moment she recognise me she's gonna run for it, no doubt about that. I'm gonna help you best I can, but I need you to lead the action itself."

The Peregrine falcon nodded, understanding the dilemma. They wanted to save the girl and in best case scenario also catch the peculiar woman so they could get her convicted by the council and deported to a punishment loop, but none of that was going to be if the woman realised she had Ymbrynes after her. It was like letting an escaped spie know interpool was chasing him, quite literally.

"LET ME GO! AAAAH!" A young girl screamed out, the sounds rising to the skies and scaring both the birds in the tree, who immediately sailed down to a lower branch to try and see what was happening back on the ground.

A young girl, maybe eleven or twelve years old, with long blond hair, was being pulled away from the Circus tent by two large, muscular men who was holding a leg and an arm each. Both men were carefully staying away from her hands, which were both put aflame, burning up a pair of dark blue gloves she'd been wearing and reducing them to nothing but ashes

"That's her! That's the girl! They're taking her!" The Bluejay screeched in panic, hardly calming down as the girl was being brought out of sight from the two birds position. "We need to get her before they drive off!"

The Peregrine falcon nodded in determination, both of the birds flying down to the bush underneth the tree and landing in the dresses hidden wihtin it, quickly regaining their human forms ocne they were inside the dresses and knew they wouldn't show up naked. While it could be very useful to be able to turn into a bird it came with the disadvantage of clothes not following your body. Turning from bird to human without being seated within a set of clothes would mean turning up stark naked as a human.

"Hurry up Alma!" Miss Bluejay exclaimed, impatiant, already quite some ahead of her Ymbryne sister already. "We can't let them get away with the girl!"

"I am trying, Lisel, I am! It's not easy for me to run!" Alma stumbled forward best she could, but truth was that it was very hard for her to move at any kind of speed with her limping leg, and she was starting to fear the kidnapers would have time to get away with the girl before she got to them. She couldn't allow that. "Go ahead! I'll come as soon as I can!"

She had expected her sister to pick up speed, running even faster through the woods, but she didn't. Instead, Alam's words acted like a spell, and she came to a sudden, complete stop.

"I can't! She's going to drive off the moment she sees me, and then she is going to have another child to sell!" Miss Bluejay exclaimed, her voice high pitched and fearful and her hands balled into fists at her sides, shaking. Standing there, in the middle of nowhere, dressed in a fluttery summer dress, she looked so young, and Alma could see the pure terror in her eyes. "She tried to take my children, Am...she can't get away." It's a plea at this point, her sister's voice breaking as she spoke, and Alma nodded.

"Don't worry, we're going to get her, and we'll get the girl back." She promise, trying to imagine how she'd felt if someone tried to kidnap any of her children, but immediately backtracking as she found the feelings exposed too dark and ugly to hold onto.

Miss Bluejay looked like she was about to give a reply, or perhaps a thank you for the comfort Alma offered, but then her head turned sharply to the right. "Did you hear that?" She asked, looking back at Alma expectantly, her blue eyes suddenly sharp and focused, pained fear chased away by other, more dominating instincts.

Alma listened, try to hear what her sister discovered, but coming up with nothing. She couldn't hear anything at all.

"I don't hear anything…" She started, but was quickly interrupted.

"Schh! Listen closely!" Miss Bluejay was still listening closely, slowly moving closer to a few bushes not too far away. Despite not believing she was really hearing anything, Alma obeyed, movign along with her sister and listening for the sounds that she didn't really believe existed.

A moment later, they'd reached the bushes her sister had been aiming for, both of them coming to a stop and Alma wondering what they were to do now, and if the mission was already ruined and the kidnappers gone.

"They're here." Miss Bluejay insisted, and Alma wanted to tell her to stop it already, because it was becoming ridiculous, but the reprimand fell flat as her sister instantly parted the bushes so they could see what was on the other side.

Standing only meters away from the bushes, was the two men they'd seen carrying away the girl earlier, both of them eagerly focused on a slender woman with long, silver coloured hair standing in front of them. It looked like she was giving them instructions, repeatedly pointing to the back of the large van parked nearby, and the men nodded eagerly each time she pointed.

"They probably keeping the girl locked up in that van. I'll distract them, and you get the girl?" Miss Bluejay quickly asked, all fear and horror blown away as she tried to focus on her task.

"Absolutely." Normally, Alma would have argued that she'd make a better distraction, especially as the bird she'd turn into is decidedly bigger than Miss Bluejay's, but she can see the determination in her eyes, and she knows she needs this. Besides, the fact that they'd recognise her would help her divert their attention. "I get the girl, you try to catch the woman, and we'll meet up again back at the circus."

Holding up three fingers, Miss Bluejay started a countdown.

 _3_ …

Taking a deep breath, Alma ready herself for what's to come. It wasn't often she was put in such direct hands-on combat situations in her line of work, but she was absolutely confident that she could do it. Had to do it. She was the kidnapped girl's only hope.

 _2_ …

Alma think of the little girl she'd seen the men carrying away from the circus. Thirteen, her sister had told her she was, but she had looked so much younger in the arms of the kidnappers, blue eyes wide open and hands burning furiously as she screamed at the top of her lungs for someone to save her.

Alma was going to save her now.

 _1…_

Without as much as a second of thought to anything, Alma get up from her hide out and run. She plow through the thick green bushes and out into the open on the other side, sprinting across the grass faster than she'd ever thought possible. All her focus is on the van and on the girl that she was going to rescue.

She was not going to disappoint her sisters. She could do this.

The screams and hollers of the men and the woman who now noticed their existence fade into the background as she opened the doors and climb into the small, dark space behind them.

Once the door closed behind her, she allow herself to pause. Standing completely still and just focusing on taking a few deep breaths, the adrenaline rush slowly fade away and she feel herself relaxing somewhat. She needed to be calm and collected for the next part of the mission, so she doesn't rush herself.

"Hello, is anyone there?" Once she is ready, she call out. The question sound absolutely ridiculous as it echoes back at her, far too mundane and simple for such a situation, but Alma knows it will undoubtedly be effective in attracting the child's attention.

" Don't hurt me! I promise I won't do anything!" The voice is small and squeamish, and as her eyes slowly become accustomed to the darkness she can see the little girl sitting in the corner, her arms tied above her head in an uncomfortable-looking position. "I promise!"

It was horrifying and unreal to watch the little girl shaking in fear, curled up in the corner and trying her best to hide even though she was completely exposed. With her big blue eyes she looked at Alma as though she was the devil herself, there to bring her with her to hell itself.

She had never had anyone looking at her like that before.

"I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to save you." Slowly, Alma moved towards the girl, her hands held out in front of her to show she meant no harm. The girl, however, didn't seem to believe her, and as she came closer, her hands caught fire, prompting Alma to back off once more. "Please, I mean no harm. Don't burn me."

Alma had thought the girl would relax if she backed off, but instead the girl only seemed to get even more desperate as she inched closer to the doors, squirming and trying to get free from the ropes that was most certainly not going to untie themselves.

"I can't control it! Please don't go!" The girl was scared, but seemed to be willing to trust Alma, since she didn't really have much of choice. She wanted to escape, and the woman in front of her was her only chance at freedom.

As she reached out to let down let down the girl, Emma's, arms, Alma watched in amazement as they stopped burning all on their own, and she didn't even have to fear getting burnt as she untied the ropes. The girl looked decidedly thankful once she didn't have to hold her arms over her head anymore, and practically threw herself at Alma.

Surprised and more than a little shocked that the girl was suddenly hugging her, she quickly recuperated and hugged her back best she could. 'Emma' was short, for a thirteen year old anyway, and her arms looped around Alma's waist while her face snuggled into the lower part of her chest, her savior's arms landing awkwardly on her meager shoulders as she attempted to snuggle closer.

It only took a few moments before Alma could feel the little body shivering, and noticed the cold wetness seeping into the fabric of her dress. It was as if someone had dipped the girl in a bucket of cold water, and it worried her. She definitely shouldn't be this cold.

"Please don't leave me here!" The girl whimpered as Alma pulled the girl away from her, holding her out in front of her so that she could see her properly. She was obviously terrified, and looked as though she was about to cry.

"I won't. I'm going to get you out of here, I promise." Alma hadn't even had the presence of mind to think of getting out of the back the van yet, but she knew they were going to do it somehow. First, however, she needed to check that the girl was alright. "How are you feeling?"

"Cold." Emma replied slowly, shivering even more as she looked at Alma with tired, glossy eyes, but not searching out the other's embrace anymore. "When will we leave?"

"Now, if you think you can walk." With a sigh, deciding to momentarily ignore her fears about the girl's health, she tried to rab Emma's hand, pushing the door open with her other hand and praying the clearing would be empty so that they could make a safe exit.

"I can always walk. I would be stupid if i couldn't walk." The thirteen year old girl decidedly make herself free of the other woman's grip and stumble out of the the car, barely landing on her feet in the grass below after making the short jump, and not getting many more steps before her legs gave in completely, and she fell forward.

"You okay Emma dear?" Seeing the girl fall over, Alma wasn't late to join the girl, offering her hand to help put her back on her feet. The girl, when not terrified, obviously valued her independence like any normal teenager, so Alma tried not to be too caring, only offering some basic help since the girl was clearly not well.

"Perfectly fine Miss...wait, how did you know my name? Have you also been spying on me!" Emma had grabbed Miss Peregrine's hand, but quickly released it again as she tried to back away from the older woman, obviously scared that Alma might try to kidnap her or exploit her as well.

´"I'm not going to kidnap you. If anything, I want to put you in safety. My friend's been keeping an eye on you, because she feared these men would come after you like they did with her children." Slowly backing away from the girl again, Alma tried to explain what was happening, and hoped the girl would soon start to trust her again. She looked so tired, shivering cold and with the small flames she lit up in her palms flickering as though she was struggling to keep them alive, but despite this Alma couldn't rule out the possibility that she could become very dangerous if she wanted to.

"Her children? They tried to kidnap her children from their mom?" Emma seemed honestly shaken at this, flames dying out and her hands lowering as she seemed overtaken with empathy for the poor children. "That's so mean. At least i don't have a family."

Emma kept a stoic impression, and Miss Peregrine marveled at the girl's ability to be both headstrong and vulnerable at the same time, but at the same time it made her vary and uncertain about how to act around to act around the girl. When she was vulnerable and small, she felt like hugging the girl and mothering her, but when she acted independently she found it better to keep a distance.

"They're not her biological children, not exactly. She runs an orphanage. " Alma tried to clarify the situation to the girl. "We actively look around for children with special abilities, bringing them with us to homes where they are supposedly safe from kidnappers or monsters that would otherwise come after us." She doesn't need to point out that the 'protection' offered was not guaranteed, because she had already revealed that some children where almost kidnapped. They did their best, of course, but Alma and her sisters were only humans like everyone else.

"You want me to come live with you?" The girl is trying to conquer the flames in her hands, again, but even trying to do so seem to drain her of far too much energy, and instead she is sitting down in the grass, afraid to topple over like she did when she tried to walk. She didn't know why the suggestion felt so wrong to her, but she did, and she could feel her instincts telling her not to trust the older woman whose name she didn't even know of yet. "What's your name, anyway?"

"My name is Alma LeFay Peregrine, but my children call me Miss Peregrine. I am offering for you to come live with me, or any of my sisters, and our children. Both us and our children are like you, we have powers beyond the understanding of normal humans." Alma didn't hesitate in offering the requested information, and more still, to the girl, knowing that someone needed a great lot of details so that they knew they were not being tricked. "I understand you are scared, i would be too, but I would never hurt you. I will not force you to do anything against your will, and if you want to just walk away and never look back, I will let you."

Emma stared at the woman, at Miss Peregrine, all shocked. She had never been offered the possibility of a choice, not ever. She hadn't chosen for her mom to run away, or for her dad to lock her up, or to work at the circus. She certainly hadn't chosen to be kidnapped by someone who claimed she wanted to give her a job.

All in all, Emma Bloom was girl who never in her entire life had had a choice, and now, she did. For the first time in thirteen years she could chose what she wanted to do.

"Will you be my mom?" It was ridiculous, but it was longing that had stayed with little Emma from that moment when she was six and her mother ran away, turning on her heels and never coming back. She wanted a mommy, had always wanted a mommy, and despite all the toughness on the outside the little girl on the inside could recognise her chance to have what she wanted, for once in her life.

Alma looked at her, equal parts shocked and moved. This little girl, who had barely trusted her at all up till now, wanted her to be her mother. To love and take care of her as she would a biological child. Alma had several charges already, that she loved and cared for with all she had, but none of them had ever asked this question. None of them had wanted her to be their mother. For them, mothers were painful memories of death an abandonment, nothing they wanted their Miss Peregrine affiliated with, and she respected that. It didn't stop her from thinking of them as her children, though.

"Yes. If that is what you want." She smile, opening her arms to invite the girl to hug her, barely breathing as she wait to see if Emma will take her up on the offer, or if she's going to turn away and dismiss her despite everything she just said.

It take one moment, two moments, and Alma is about to close her arms and accept that the girl didn't want a hug when she's suddenly rushing toward her, almost falling over in her hurry to claim that hug. Thin arms close around her waist, a pointy nosed face burrowing into her chest and though she can feel the girl's entire body shaking this time she doesn't think it's from being cold or poor health. She close her arms around the girl's bony shoulders, and for a moment, everything feels absolutely perfect.

"I always wanted a mother." The girl whispered, the sound muffled by the fabric of Alma's dress as she didn't loosen her grip in the slightest. Alma didn't try to make her loosen it, but pulled her closer instead.

"And now you got one." Alma answered back, thankful that the girl wasn't looking at her face, because if she did, she'd see the tears streaming down her chins in an unusual fit of emotion that she didn't know how to fight, nor if she even wanted to fight it. She had learned long ago that there was no point in trying to fight love, because it'd only make it grow stronger.

All children that Alma took care of was special, and each and everyone of them changed her perception of the world, added something to it that hadn't been there before, but this girl was something even more.

This girl made her a true mother. Not just a caretaker or a headmistress, but a real mother to a child who would call her mother.

It was something Alma hadn't known to wish for, but wouldn't trade for anything now that she had it. It made her feel complete.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I am very sorry how long this took me. My granpa died a few backs and my writing has more or less been on halt since, but here it is.**

 **Summary of the confusing kind for this chapter: Because sometimes, it simply wasn't that easy for Miss Peregrine**

 **Millard Nullings**

At Miss Avocet and Miss Bunting's academy, young women were trained to protect and care for young children with amazing and sometimes terrifying abilities. But how could you train these young persons to deal with abilities, that were as individual as the persons who possessed them? The answer was, you didn't.

Throughout the normally between five and seven year long education, Ymbrynes were taught about an assortment of the most common and uncommon peculiarities, hoping it'd give them a general idea of what to expect and how to act once sent out in the field.

Most Ymbrynes **expected** this to give them a general idea of what to expect and what to do when they were sent out in the field, but, as Alma Peregrine had soon come to learn, it was far from the truth.

It wasn't that any of the children Alma was used to encountering normally presented themselves as uncooperative or violent in their ability, but just the fact that the abilities were a constant surprise , and staring and gaping was something you'd better get used to hiding quick, or you'd have to chase after crying and terrified children with abilities beyond your wildest imagination.

These children counted on you to see them the way no one else would, and if the Ymbrynes didn't, the children would be uncomfortable and insecure. Thankfully, Alma was skilled in covering her emotions, and managed just fine. But it didn't make it any less of a pleasure to get away from the children and be on her own, completely open and without a facade for once.

This, is what Alma mused about as she entered her favourite cafe in Swansea, book in hand and order made up in her mind.

As soon as she entered, Alma ordered a strawberry tasting pastry and a cup of tea, oddly enough without milk, sugar or honey. As weird as it might sound, she had always found that it quit hid the taste of the actual tea, and preferred hers black, regardless of what others thought.

Sitting down on a nice spot by the window, where she could unsuspiciously do some people watching beside reading her book if she wished, she let a sigh escape her lips, her whole posture slumping and relaxing when she didn't have to pretend to be perfect and on guard for anybody.

This was her time dedicated to noone but herself.

"Millard! How many times do I have to tell you to stay in the kitchen where they can't see you! Go back there now!"

Turning her head slightly to the left, a redheaded woman in her thirties was standing and screaming at thin air, chewing out a boy that Alma presumed had already left the room, as there was no boy to be seen. Considering the woman's angry tone, it was no surprise if they boy ran as soon as she spotted her.

"No one notice me anyway! At least if you stop screaming!" A nasal boy voice suddenly came out of thin air next tot the woman, rebuking woth equal amount of anger that the woman had showed him, though she could not see him at all. As he finished, Alma swore she could hear feet stomping away to the back of the cafe, behind the counter.

But she was still not seeing anything.

Noticing her starring finally, the woman turned to Alma, a huge plastic smile glued upon her face. She was entierlty unfamiliar to Alma but considering how rarely she was around, they'd probably changed pwners since last time. "I'm so sorry if i disturbed you, Miss. My son's only ten, and a bit of rebel. You understand, don't you?" There was terror shinning in her eyes. Had she been anyone else, Alma would have assumed it was the woman being scared of loosing a customer, but as it was, Alma knew what she had seen - or more like hadn't seen, and she knew it was not just from loosing a customer that the woman's terror came. She was afraid Alma had seen something she shouldn't, something she couldn't explain, and it'd cause her to get the woman's family in trouble with the even in the twenty-first century still surprisingly superstitious welshmen who lived in Swansea.

Well adapted to social banter and how to innocently and unsuspiciously extract information from people, Alma let out a humourless laughter. "Oh trust me, I kniw. I am the headmisstres on this tiny island off the coust. Besode a few teenagers, most of my children is that age." She smiled sweetly, feeling mildly disgusted with herself and her behaviour.

"Oh, wow. I could never imagaine that. No, my little Millard and his sister is more than enough for me to handle." The woman blushed, giggling, and Alma giggled too, trying to keep up her sickingly sweet demeanour despit her shock.

Millard, the boy with the presumed peculiarity of invisibility (temporary or otherwise) had a sister. What if his sister was peculiare as well? Would they then be dealing with another case like Bronwyn and Victor Bruntley?

"So, how old is the girl? Older, or younger? Because let me tell you, I know about both." She rolled her eyes, Sighing with fake exhaustion.

"Oh, she's just two, a little toddler. Her father look after her while he wrote his articles and I take care of the cafe." Seemingly without even meaning to, the woman sank down on one of the chairs, placing the empty tray she'd had in her hands on a nearby table. "It's not easy, but it works."

Alma nodded understandingly, a serious expression that felt much more natural on her face instead. "Does Millard go to school here in town? I send my oldest to the school in Shell, but I keep them home schooled until they're eleven so that I don't have to worry about them when they take the ferry on their own."

The woman nodded, too, the terror once more showing in her eyes. "Well unfortunately...my Millard ain't entirely fit for school, so I homeschool him at night, after I close the cafe. His father does help too, but the newspaper take a lot of time, he's a reporter." There was sadness in her eyes, blending with the terror that appeared as she talked of her boy's schooling. Alma could tell the woman really loved her son, peculiare or not, and it made her heart ache to think of what she'd have to do. She'd have to take away her boy.

As the woman left to tend to some new customers that just came in, Alma sat where she was, book forgotten as she tried to suppress the tears threatening to fall and focus instead. She needed a plan.

But how was one supposed to pull a little boy, only ten years old, and perhaps a two year old girl as well, away from an entirely loving and supporting family? She could deal with children without families, children whose parents abused, and yes, even families who loved but didn't understand. But a loving and understanding family who did what they could to help? No.

Had it been any other time, where the boy wouldn't be so vulnerable and threatened, she would have argued the boy didn't need her protection and left him. But with all the Hollows and Wights and the coming war, it was impossible.

It wasn't fair to the family to take the boy, but it wasn't fair to the boy to leave him and subsequently put the lives of his family and himself in danger.

Two hours later, Alma left the cafe. By then she'd been there for all of three hours total, had five cups of tea and two pastries, but she'd only read fifty pages and was yet to make a decision regarding the most probably peculiar boy.

As she came out into the street, she was just about to take off down to the right to the loop entrance, when she heard a sudden noise from another slim alleyway close by.

"It's not fair! I always have to take out the trash! Ugh!" The young voice of a little boy shouted at the top of his lungs, the screaming accompanied by something heavy hitting the ground.

It was not hard for Alma to recognise the voice, and whilst she had first been moving closer to the small side street, she now wanted to turn back and run. Never had Alma felt such emotional distress over a case with one of her children.

She didn't know what to do.

Acting on sudden impulse, she fought herself and walked right on into the alley. She needed a good look at the boy, maybe talk to him a little, and then maybe it would become clear to her how she was to act... she hoped.

"Hey, Millard?" She whisper his name, hope she can catch his attention, because all she see in the dirty space between the two brick buildings are a big black garbage bag standing by the garbage cans in the corner.

"Who's there? Who ever you are, don't come close! I got a...a garbage bag!" Alarmed by Alma's Sudden presence, they boy lifted up the big bag to defend himself. Alma could only deduce this as the bag started to float in the air. A part of Alma's abilities did allow her to sense where any peculiare within a certain distance of her was, but it demanded a good relation between the Ymbryne and the peculiar, as well as a good idea of the outline of the space, none of which she had currently.

"Please, I don't want to hurt you. I saw you earlier in the cafe, talking to your mother, and I noticed that I couldn't see you. Are you always invisible?" She talked slowly, patiently, hands held up in front of her to show she meant no harm. She was rather sure she already knew the answer to her own question but decided it was easy to start with an easy question.

"Mom!" The boy screamed, garbage bag dropping to the ground, and Alma vinced internally. She didn't want this, at least not until she'd consulted with her sister Ymbryne and try to sort out if she really had to take him.

She didn't want to ruin a perfect family.

"Millard!" The woman from earlier came running, covered in flour and with a fully visible, tiny toddler in a grey dress on her arm. "What's wrong?"

"Momma, the old lady was trying to kidnap me!" The boy blatantly lied, soft pitter patter echoing against the walls as he rushed over to his mother, who wrapped her free arm around him.

"I most definitely did not!" Alma protested, indigenous. "I was kindly explaining to your son that I meant no harm and tried to ask him about his abilities as a syndrigast." Alma said, the words all too familiar on her tongue. Smooth talking was basically a required subject for Ymbrynes, and for good reasons at that.

"Syndri what? What do you want with my son?!" The woman was panicked, obviously believing her son's word over Alma's, and she could feel panic rising in her own chest, but she pushed it down.

"A syndrigast, or a peculiar in common language. It means that your boy has a genetic abnormality that gift him with seemingly out of worldly powers, such as for example invisibility. My own powers include transforming into a bird, and manipulating time." She sigh, finishing her long-winded explanation and feeling rather tired. It was never easy to fill in the blanks for these poor adults, and Alma could only hope the woman already having accepted the boy and his powers would aid her in her understanding.

"So you mean that this...that his invisibility is some kind of gift, and that you have it too?" The woman looked marginally less panicked, but her grip around the boy was still holding tight. For a moment, she seeme to be contemplating something, and Alma wait, seeing if there is something else she want to say before she answer. "You said you had an orphanage...the children...are they all like him?"

Alma swallows. The minute of truth was upon them, and she would have to tell the woman in front of her what she was intending to do. That she was intending to take her son away from her. Unintentionally, her eyes travel over to the girl Millard's mom was clutching in her arms, a perfectly ordinary little girl toddler. It almost hurt more to think that she'd have to leave the little girl behind, and that she would never really know of her amazing, peculiar brother.

"It's a gift indeed, a gamble where your son happened to emerge victorious. Or it is meant evolutionary. Adults tend to react badly to children with powers, and therefore some us, those with powers like me has been tasked with protecting them. We travel the country, gathering children and putting them in safety before they are forced to pay with their lives." A stray picture of a slayed peculiar, a child that they had not been quick enough to protect, appeared in her mind, and she can feel tears rising in her eyes. "Your son...he'll have to come with me, he'll be in danger if he stay with you. You all will."

Tears are streaming down Alma's face, mimicking those streaming down the face of the woman whose name she still didn't know, but was asking to give up her son. She was shaking her head, holding the boy closer than ever before.

"No, I don't mind if I can't seem him. I won't hurt him, I love him." The woman screamed at Alma, and Alma was about to explain why she had to do what she was about to do, bit the woman interrupted her. "PETER!"

It took but a moment, and a man appeared in the doorframe. As opposed to his wife, who was redhaired and brown eyed, he was dark haired and blue eyed. His entire statue was tall and intimidating, and once more, Alma swallowed. She couldn't and wouldn't forcefully take a child from a family like this.

"What is going on?" The man rumbled, peering at her with suspicious gaze, taking in her appearance from her raven hair to her prim and proper dark green dress. "Who are you?"

"Peter! She was in the cafe earlier, and accidentally saw Millard." Ignoring the angered glare from her husband at this statement, the mother moved closer to her spouse, directing the patch of thin air that was supposedly their son in between his two parents. "Now she says she has to take him to an orphanage for children with powers like his, that she run. Says he's in danger."

Terror and adrenaline mixed in Alma's blood stream, pushing her through tears and wishes to scream to continue to convince them to give her the boy. "He is in danger! There are monsters, as invisible as your son himself and absolutely lethal, who will kill you all if they picks up the scent of your son. None of you will be spared, I can guarantee that!" She didn't know what to do. She doubted the parents were actually going to relent, and she could still not decide if she wanted them to. It was being stuck between rock and a hard place, because neither could she take him nor could she leave him and it all just meant that she was stuck in the limbo between, waiting for someone else to call the shots.

"But if you are protected within your home, with your children, how would you possibly know of the danger these monsters possess?" The woman asked, more confused than anything, her grip of her child losing slightly. The man nodded sharply, agreeing.

Alma sigh again, more tears welling up in her eyes as she rolled up the sleeves of her dress to expose her arms, showing them to both the adults. "Because their leaders are my brothers, and I carry the proof of what my brothers will do to anyone who threatens them." She try to stop her tears, stop her rollercoaster of emotions, but it isn't working well. Instead, she just keep her eyes focused on the family standing infront of her, decidedly not facing the scars she knew covered her arms. She didn't think she could stand to face her past at the moment.

"How old were you when they did that to you?" The man wasn't sounding as suspicious, anymore, but more angered. She couldn't imagaine if it was directed to her or the men who hurted her. At his question, she glanced at her arms, seeing the layers of old faded scars piling ontop eachother, and feeling her breath catch in her throat. Hurt, pain, injuries she could never tell the other ymbrynes about, all of it came back to her.

When had it started? Had it ever really ended for her? She didn't know, but she needed to produce an answer for the people currently taking in her scars and the exact danger she'd been in for so long.

"Eight. I was eight when they first hurt me enough to leave a scar. It continued until I broke with them when I was ninteen, and these a jsut a fraction of all they do to me. Just, please, trust me when I say that I know how dangeorus they are, and I know that they won't spare anyone that comes in their path. I would have died years ago had I not been their sister" She didn't want to lay out her personal history for these people, and she didn't like the tears glistening on her cheeks for more reaosns than one, but she didn't have a choice, she had already decided what was right.

The only way to keep both the boy and the family safe, was to take him with him.

"You can have him. You can get him toorrow. As long as you promise you'll kepe him dressed, fed, safe and loved, you can have him. I will let you have him." Millard's mother spoke, sadness and understanding blending in her eyes, and Alma nodded, swallowing audiably.

"Tomorrow" She said, spoking slowly so her cracking voice wasn't oing to show. "I'll get your son out of here, and into safety. I promise, I'll look after him, I won't let anyone hurt him!"

She turn on her heels, run away while still walking and trying to pretend that she is composed okay, as okay as she'll fake being when she get back in the morning.

Because soemtimes being an Ymbrye wasn't easy. Sometimes they were forced to pull children awya form ogod families. And sometimes, when they got stuck in a rut or it was simply all too hard to do what they had to, they cried. She cried.

People could say what they want, but no Ymbryne was above crying.


	9. Chapter 9

**Abraham Portman**

"Mother, when will we get London, mother?" The whinny voice of a little girl called out, and Abe cocked his head, glancing at the blonde haired girl in the blue dress. The mother beside her, dressed in a once-expensive pink coat and dirtied white gloves, looked quite tired as she pulled in her curious little daughter for a tight hug, quieting her by kissing her on the head. As opposed to the girl, the mother was dark haired and dark eyed, looking almost as he remembered his own mother to have, and seeing her sitting there, he subqounsciously reached out to touch his own hair.

He was dark haired too. A thirteen year old boy in a dirty, threadbare coat and equally threadbare shirt and pants. None of the clothes were quite correctly fitted, and his shoes were too big, but he was happy to be dressed at all. His parents had put on him the best clothes they owned for the journey ahead of him.

He'd grown up in Polen, in Warsava, and back home he'd had a large family of people who looked just like him and were Jewish, just like him. But lately, there had been people who'd been saying that it wasn't okay to look like them or believe in their relgion. They said they were devils, and made life dangeorus for them.

His parents were poor already before these mean people decided to make this life even harder, and as much as they would have liked to send all eight of their little children across the sea to the land, from where his mother had once come, they only had the money to save one fo them.

Abe had been chosen to carry on hsi families legacy, and to stay safe and hidden in the unknown country until the day his parents would come to get him. Because they promise they would, telling him they'd meet again soon enough.

Abe is no fool, though, and he knows better. He knows that what is going on is much more dangerous than his parents are telling him, and his knows that he is never going to return to Polen, ever.

He doesn't know how he knwos the last part, but he can feel it, burried deep iwhtin his heart like a thorn that refused to come otu and allow the wound to heal. From the moment he stepped on the train he was lost, to hsi country, to his family, to everyone.

 _Well, maybe not to everyone_

He think the woman. The woman who is supposed to meet him at the train station in London and take care of him from now on. His mother had told him of her, of how her sister had taken care of mother when she was a child. She had assured him, that if there was any place in this world considered safe, it would be with her.

Before Abe left, he'd been given a picture, that the lady had sent, which showed herself. In the picture he could see that she was old, but not too old, dressed in dark clothing and with a very stern face.

She didn't look like someone who would take care of him, and the flicker of concern on his mother's face showed that she didn't, either. But as soon as she noticed him looking, she'd smiled, told him it would be okay and acted as though she believed it.

"Next station, London! Everyone leave the train!"

A man in a red uniform appeared in the door to the cart, perfectly calm but still screaming. It took Jacob a few moment worth of time to put toghther what he had said in his own shacky, faulting English, but once he did, he suddenly had a hole lot to do.

Quickly standing uo from his seat, he watched as the girl and the mother were packing up their things, too, and he qiickly grabbed his quilt and pillow and stuffed them into the tiny bag that contained everything he owned. Beside his quilt and pillow, that was only a photo of him and his siblings and a photo of the headmisstres.

After a second of indecision, Abe took the last photoand put it in his clenched fist, holding onto it as tight as he could and knowing that it was his only ticket to survival. His only hope in a world where there didn't seem to be any.

Cautious and scarred, he carefully stepped out on the train platform, trying to separate from the other children filling up the train station platform, some of them waiting to enter a train, and some of them leaving the same train as he.

The crowd that filled the station oulled him in and tried to force him to move woth them, but he fought back. He couldn't go with with them, if he did he'd never find the woman who promised to take care of him, and his entire future would pan out as nothing at all.

"Hey! You there!" Just as Abe was about to sit down on a bench, a good place to wait to keep a look out, someone called out for him. "All children need to get in line!"

The man who called for him was huge, a gigant in blue uniform who looked more than a little miffed that Abe wasn't getting in line with all the other children, even though he couldn't possibly know if Abe was supposed to.

"I'm not supposed to...to stand in line. No." It took Abe many valuable seconds before he remebered to sue his English, trying to sound like his momma used to when she spoke with him in it, beatiful and melodic. It came out choppy and rough. "I'm waiting. Woman goong to pick me up."

The man looked a little less miffed at this, his facial features softening as he took in the boy before him properly. "Oh, I see. What woman, your mom? Your auntie? Maybe your big sister?" He smiled, making Abe feel safe and a bit more confident.

"No." He said quickly, shacking his head from side to side. The woman wasn't his mom, or aunt, or even his sister. "She's a woman who take care of kids. She's gonna take care me!" Abe would have loved to have elaborated, explained more exactly what he was talking of, but in thirteen years he had only had time to learn so much of his mother's native language, and the basic explanation would have to do.

"So she's a headmisstres? She's gonna take you to children's home?" he asked, his face turning into one of pity.

Abe thought about this. A headmistress? Yes, he thought mom had called her that. And she was going to take him to a house full of a children, a children's houde. "Yes" He nodded.

The man smiled. "And she was going to pick you up right here on the station? Because children aren't allowed to be here alone, so you'll have to come with me" The man explained, and though he was smiling, Abe was terrified, because the man wanted to take him away, and how would he then find the headmisstres? Would she be able to find him? Abe didn't know, and he didn't want to have to risk it.

"No! " He explained, within the moment standing on his feet with his bag clutched in one hand, and the photo in the other. "You can't take me away! She's not going to find me!"

He start running. On short, skinny legs he began racing along the now almost empty station, heart beating fast in his chest as he did what every thirteen year old with their hole future put at risk by a stranger would do.

Behind him, the man id screaming for him, following him on legs that were much taller and was quickly catching up, prompting Abe to exceed his own limitations as he tried desperately to keep going.

Finally, what took him out, was not the man catching up, but the fact that he ran straight into someone.

"Oh my dear bird!" A aged female voice, shrill with surprise, called out as Abe skidded across the floor and right into her legs. Momentarily having forgotten about the angry train station emplyee chasing him, Abe took a quick peek upwards t the woman he hit, and what he saw was enough to stun him into complete silence, both voice and body frozen with shock.

She was dark haired, black hair pulled up in a toght bun with a few loose strands framing her sharp angeled face. She was dressed inna blacl dress and had a pare of circular glasses balancing on the brim of her nose, hawk like eyes peering at him over them.

It was the woman from the wrinkled photo contained within his sweaty palm.

"Miss! Miss, it's me!" He shouted, following it with a long exclamation in Polish before he once more remembered his English. "I'm Abe Portman! Your going to take care of me!"

Abe didn't have time to say anything more, not did the woman have time to ask any questions, because roght then the man who'd beene chasing Abe reached them, looking triumfant as he noticed that Abe had stopped running at long last.

"Now I got you! I'm going to take you to office and turn you in for breaking rules!" The man grinned manically, reaching for Abe, but as he tried to grab his shirt the eoman stepped in between, his hand ending up pressed against her abdomen.

"You most certainly will not! This boy, Abraham Portman, is under my protection. I have been tasked by his mother to take care of him and so help me I will!" She stretched her body, straightening her back and almost tiptoeing and in the end she was standing surely ten centimeters taller than the man, glaring at him with cold anger.

She looked lethal, like an assasin ready to kill the man who still had his hands firmly pressed against her abdomen for a single wrong answer. As fearful as Abe himeself of the woman who he didn't know but seemed to know all of him.

"I'm...I...I suppose now that you're here he's accompanied, so I don't need to bring him anywhere." Quick and clumsy, he bowed. "Good day, Ma'am." And with that, he was gone. Ran away from them faster than he'd ran to them and quickly disappearing out of sight.

Once he disappeared, the woman laughed. She smiled and she laughed and he eyes twinkled like little stars. Abe felt as though he was staring at the sun, smiling him too as he took in all the beauty and grace that rested in the expresionate face of the woman before him. Sure, she was older, probably somewhere in her forties and fifties, and there was little scars and wrinkles in her face, but it didn't change his assessment of her beauty.

He decided right then and there that he always wanted her to smile, and that he'd alway try to make her smile.

"You're beautiful. You should always smile and laugh, it suits you." The words slip out of his mouth before he know it, his becoming beat red out of pure embaressement as he realised what he said.

The woman, on the other hand, only laughed more, smile wider and eyes bigger. "Between you and me, I think I can do that, . If I do it in front of the other children, they will surely lose all respect for me." She smiled, seeing his smile still there on his face as he listened intently. "But only if you behave, of course."

Behaving, something he normally did without complains, seemed like too little of a price for something so beautiful, but Abe accepted the offer without a second thought.

"Yes, of course, that'll be good Miss…" He tried to remember her name, only to discover that he never learnt it. His mom had been taken care of by a Miss Finch, and this was her sister, but it was all that had been said on the matter.

Seeing the boy's struggles, she looked at him sympathetically. She didn't know how much the boy did know, but her name was obviously not on the list. "My name is Alma LeFay Peregrine, but I'd like for you to refer to me as headmistress, or Miss Peregrine."

Abe nodded at the woman's explanation, figuring someone with authority over children like him was in all right to expect their referal to her to reflect that. Besides, she was his only hope and an excedingly pleasent one, at that. Abe almost thought he could come to lvoe this woman and her beatiful smile, if he was lucky.

"Yes, Miss Peregrine." He tried out the name. It sounded good, fitting even, and he thought he could get used to it.

Miss Peregrine smiled even more, a slightly mad glint in her eyes as she said the words that he could never forget, even as he left the loop and grew old in Florida, America, so far away from Great Britain and Wales.

"Welcome to the peculiar capitol of the peculiar world, Abraham."


	10. Chapter 10

**Enoch O'Connor**

Alma sigh. She had no idea what she was doing, to be quite honest. And she always strived to be honest, as honest as a twenty-something year old former orphan with two psychotic brothers who had been declared insane could be. Which was surprisingly honest, actually. Obviously she knew how having a loop and taking care of peculiares was suppose to work, she had learned that when she was trained to become an Ymbryne, but only in theory.

 _This_ **,** that she was about to do, on the other hand, was something _completely different_ **.** Today she was actually going to have a child's life put into her hands, and she was expected to look after it and help it fulfill all its unfulfilled potential. How you did that, she didn't know.

For the tenth time this half-hour alone, Alma looked down at the photo and the carefully written letter in her hands. It was an informatory letter from her Ymbryne sister, Miss Glassbillow, telling her of her new ward, Enoch O'connor. Enoch had been living in Miss Woodpeckers loop in Glasgow for roughly seventy years, but was said to have been born in Eastern London.

On the picture sent with the letter, there was a slightly pudgy eleven year old boy with messy blond hair and blue eyes that stood out from his pale face. He was sitting in the grass on someone's lawn and playing with two porcelain dolls, which had apparently been gifts from his biological mother long ago. While Alma found it curious for a mother to give dolls as gifts for her son, she would be more than happy to let the boy play with whatever toys he wanted while under her care.

"I really hope I can do this" She mumbled, resting her forehead against the cool surface of the train's glass window. Alma wasn't normally the one to doubt herself, but it was always a huge step for an Ymbryne to receive her first peculiare, and hers was an adapted one at that.

Normally, the peculiares given to newly trained Ymbrynes would be raw, newly introduced to peculiare society and with little control over their powers. Alma's first charge, on the other hand, would be more than well trained with his powers and quite educated in the workings of peculiare society already. If it was a pro or a con, she couldn't tell.

Miss Woodpecker had not been very specific as to why she was no longer able to take care of her charge, but nor did Alma expect her to be. The reasons behind an Ymbryne abandoning or reassign any of her charges were often extremely delicate and personal, and when Alma got the offer to care for the boy, she accepted without further questions. If there was anything to be told, she thought, the boy would surely come to tell her of it.

' _Now arriving at Glasgow Railroad station. All passengers leave the train.'_

Exactly an hour after the promised time, the train from London finally arrived at it's promised destination at the train station in Glasgow. The delays concerned Alma, for as far as she knew her sister was not to wait with Enoch on the station, and a child left alone at a train station for as long as an hour was at risk of being picked up by station employees, assumingly lost or abandoned.

"Don't worry, I'm sure the boy will be alright. He's old enough to tell the personal he's waiting for someone and ask them to let him be." She told herself quietly as stepped out onto the train station platform, immediately being pushed aside as she was almost run over by a man who seemed to be in an awful hurry somewhere.

The train station was lot bigger and more populated than Alma had expected it to, much more crowded and noisy than she was used to. Suddenly, she felt despair welling up inside her like a thick, black goo that threatened to close off her airways and suffocate her. How, how was she expected to find an eleven year old boy in this unorganised mess that was the Glasgow train station? It was impossible, even with the picture as reference, for he was so small that he would simply disappear in the sea of grown-ups.

Taking a few tentative steps in a random direction, she quickly stopped as she heard someone talking among the crowd.

"Where is your guardian? Children aren't allowed to be on the platform alone!" She heard a man bark angrily, apparently not too far away from where Alma was standing.

Turning around on her feet to try and locate the man, she felt a glimmer of hope lighting up her inside. While chances were it wasn't Enoch the angry man had been addressing, she decided that she had nothing to lose by checking it out.

"I-I'm waiting for my guardian, Mister. The headmistress of the orphanage I'm moving to was going to pick me up here." A young boy sputtered, clearly replying to the angered man. His voice was definitely male, but high pitched enough that some might confuse it for a female. Furthermore, Alma's sharp hearing picked up a slight but distinct cockney accent, which got her heart beat even faster. Enoch was supposedly from East London originally, and could likely have a cockney accent.

It was still a far fetched chances, but it was something to hold on to.

Alma felt her heart pounding in her chest, anxiety ravaging her stomach and pulse beating like drums in her ears as she scanned the train station for the man and the boy. She was just about convinced that she had imagined it all, so desperate to find the boy, when she finally noticed a man in train station uniform standing bent over someone, who was sitting on a bench a bit off to the side.

Running as fast as her limping right leg would allow her, Alma rushed over to the two. As she came closer, she could see more of the boy the employee was blocking from view, and one look at the poor things pale face told her it was him.

"Enoch!" She called out, and the boy looked up, big blue eyes staring at her, the employee moving out of the way slightly as he saw her approaching.

"I this your new guardian?" The man grabbed Enoch by the arm, forcing him off the bench, and she could see the boy flinch. Abandoned on his seat on the bench was two pale porcelain dolls.

"Let my ward be!" Alma complained, before the boy himself could say anything. She walked up to the man and removed his hand from Enoch arm, grabbing on herself instead, though admittedly a lot gentler. She didn't do child abuse, after all. Enoch smiled. "You should feel ashamed of yourself. Attack such an innocent young boy!"

"Sorry" The man looked down into the ground, embarrassed. First now did she realise the "man" was probably a lot younger than her, not much more than a boy really. "Just trying to do my job, Miss. I am sorry if I caused you any inconvenience."

She resisted rolling her eyes in the most undignified manner at the weak excuse. _Just doing my duty_ , as if that was an excuse! He could have 'done his duty' a lot more gentle than he did.

"Oh please, just go bother someone else! Me and charge have a train to catch!" With a last irritated swat of her hand in the air, she stomped away, playing angry and deeply insulted so the man wouldn't follow, pulling at Enoch's arm so he would come along.

Enoch, though, refused. "My dolls!" He protested, suddenly and violently making himself free of her grip, so he could run back and pick up the porcelain dolls resting on bench, wedging them under one of his arms as he used the other one to carry a small suitcase that Alma admittedly hadn't really taken notice of.

"Enoch O'Connor! Come back **now**!" Alma screeched, seeing the man glancing at them from a distance, and not wanting him to think she couldn't control her child. Enoch glaced at him, too, and slowly walked over to her, clutching everything he owned close.

"I wouldn't leave my dolls, Miss. You can't tell me to leave my dolls." Enoch is frowning, and Alma realised that she could have been more tactical. She was used to being strict and cold, her heart too damaged from the past to allow her to let people in. Miss Woodpecker, on the other hand, was open and kind and extremely well-liked among peculiares everywhere. Alma had never even thought to fear how Enoch would react to the vast differences by his new and old Ymbryne, but now she did.

"I know honey, but we need to go. " She forced the affectionate nickname over her lips despite its bitter taste, smiling softly at him and started walking. This time, Alma didn't hold onto him, just started walking and hoped he would be able to follow.

To her relief, Enoch managed to follow without problem. Because of his packing he wasn't very smooth in his movement, but he appeared to be stronger than the appearance told, for he didn't ask to Alma for help carrying his items, but rather just moved on in quiet.

He was still frowning, and Alma realised she may have chased away something that had been rare to begin with. The letter had described him as bitter and deeply unhappy, but first now could she see what they were meaning.

When they came to their platform, it was thirty minutes until the train would leave, and the platform was empty. Feeling her right leg aching from running around on the station, Alma sat down on the closest bench and sigh in relief. She normally tries not to let her harmed bother her, trying to hide her limp if she could, but it was hard to deny that her injury could be problematic at times.

"What happened to your leg?" Enoch asked, his brow furrowed in slight concern as he watched her massage her shin to relieve a little of the pain that was currently radiating throughout the offending limb. "Did you hurt it?"

She closed her eyes briefly, sighing."You could say that. Broke it, when I was younger. It never healed properly, and as such, I'm still forced to deal with it."

"You were limping. Do you always limp?" The boys voice was monotone, frown still on his face as she opened her eyes, but she could see a curious glimmer in his eyes as he sat down on the floor next to her.

"Yes. But it's not very bad, I'm still pretty quick." Alma tried a smile, even though it felt wobbly and half-hearted. She masssaged her calf a little more intensely. "What about you then? How do you like switching loops and everything?" As soon as she let the question leave her lips she regretted it, once more thinking of the sharp difference between her and Delores Woodpecker . Why would this peculiare **possibly** enjoy having to switch his kind hearted and warm Ymbryne for a cold and emotionally distant woman like Alma?

"Eh, it's okay I s'pose. Gonna miss Miss G a lot. But you seem nice." He says it with such ease, and Alma knew she should take the last part as a compliment, but the frown on his face keep coming in the way somehow.

"I understand. She's a nice woman." Alma answered distractedly, still massaging her poor leg. It felt better now, but it would never be really good. "She came to Miss Avocet's school, once, and taught us about how environment can affect an unborn foster and subsequently its peculiar talent."

"Like if I my parents hadn't been undertakers, I wouldn't be able to rise the dead?" The boy asked absentmindedly, grabbing his suitcase and opening it, apparently searching for something inside.

"Not exactly. What you looking for?" The boy had lifted clothes and toys out of the suitcase, and was entirely focused on the squared leather item, trying hard to find whatever item he was looking for.

"I want my book" He said, simply and stubbornly, his frown deepening as he didn't seem to find it. "It have to be here!" More clothes and objects were taken out with less care as the boy seemed to go into something similar to e temper tantrum.

"Give me the bag, dear, I'll find it for you." Alma sigh, taking the suitcase from the boy and looking inside. There wasn't much left inside it now, just some clothe strewn out on the bottom, half of them probably belonging to Enoch dolls rather than the boy himself. Still, the boy was obviously not going to agree to listen unless they found 'his book', so she started absentmindedly picking up the clothes in order to expose the bottom the case, and, to her surprise noticed that one of the nightshirts was big and square-shaped in a way it shouldn't be. Unfolding it, she could definitely feel that there was something inside. "I think I found the book, dear."

"Really? Give me it!" The boy's face light up, and a small smile grazed his lips as he grabbed the item, removing the night shirt and revealing a green, leather bound book with golden details covering both the front and the back. "Yay! My book!"

Alma smiled at the boy's sudden excitement, watching him hug the book close and pack everything back. Then, all of sudden, she got a good idea. One that might make her charge like her a little more.

"Do you want me to read from it?" She asked, despite not knowing what kind of books it was, and extended her hand expectantly.

The effect was immediate. The little boy's hole face lit up and Alma could feel the excitement radiating from him like a heatwave. It made her smile, again, to see him smiling so much, suddenly much more appreciative of his new headmistress. "YES!" He screeched, his voice so loud that a few people threw looks their way, wondering what was happening, and causing Alma to have to hush him.

"Yes _please_ " She reminded him teasingly, but he kept smiling _._ Turning the book which he had trusted her with over on it's back, she was for the first time faced with the front cover of it. _Tales of the peculiare_ it said in fancy golden script, and she laughed a little. She should have understood.

"Can you read 'the pigeons of '?" He looked at her, hopeful, interested, polite. The perfectly behaved little boy hoping to hear his favourite story. Blissfully happy in a way she never thought she'd see him, ever. Not after she chased it away with her coldness.

She immediately nodded, starting out by opening the book on the very first page and seeing a personal note from Enoch's former Ymbryne.

" _Because the tales is a happiness for you wherever you go." - Dolores Woodpecker_

It was signed with Miss Woodpeckers full name, and Alma smile. Warm and kind indeed, that's the way her sister was.

"It's on page 156. Just follow the red rope." The boy look impatient, now, and Alma quickly open the book on the page marked by the thin piece of red satin. It was page 156, as promised.

A small editorial note was wedged in at the top of the page, informing the readers that they were not responsible for how the story might differ from other versions of the tale.

"What version is this story? Are the pigeons builders or destroyers?" Alma peered over the edge of the book at the boy, curious. There was alternate versions of many of the stories, but few were so vastly different from one another as 'The Pigeons of ',and most peculiares had their preferred versions that was the only ones they wanted to hear.

"Destroyers! The story with them as builders _suck_!" Enoch protested. "Now start reading! Please." The last word was added with a slightly disgruntled voice as Alma gave him a stern look, telling him it wouldn't do to be so demanding.

"Alright, I'll read for you." And read, Alma did. In fact, she never stopped reading. Because over the years she acquired more and more peculiare children to her home, and for all of them, both new and old, she read the stories from _Tales of the peculiar_ , over and over again.

All of them had their favourites, that they didn't want to let go of, and were always begging her to read for them.

Enoch loved 'The pigeons of ', constantly claiming it to be the only story in the book that made sense, even though few of the tales had much logic to them at all. But for whatever reason, it made him happy, and that was all that mattered.

Bronwyn and Victor always asked for the story of Cuthbert, the friendly giant. Bronwyn would cry when the witch cursed him, and both of them would smile at the improvised positive endings that Alma added every time to make sure the stories end put a smile on her children's faces.

Claire and Olive, in their childish joy, enjoyed to hear of the girl that could talk to ghosts. The would be pouting over the sadness throughout most of the story, but smile gleefully at the happy ending.

Fiona and Hugh shared a common passion for the story of the boy who could raise the sea, and Alma suspected they liked comparing the boy and his love, the girl who controlled the wind, to themselves.

Horace and Millard both found an almost morbid curiosity in the story of the civilised cannibals, a story there was a strict age limit of thirteen years to hear, and which the boys normally took to reading themselves instead of asking her. It was easier for all intents and purposes.

Emma, always the odd one out but never minding it, had read the story of the first Ymbryne enough times to learn it by heart less than a year after she arrived at Miss Peregrine's home. The girl, who struggled with the concept of peculiars as opposed to the religious ideas of devils and curses, found it amazing with a story that explained how it had all come to be. It made it a little easier for her to adjust and accept herself for what she was.

Jacob, last but not least, seemed to latch onto a story no one else approved of. Miss Peregrine had seen Emma's vain attempt to skip it, and Jacob's immense protests that he wanted to read it. It was the story of the girl who rid people of their nightmares, and as dark and twisted as it was, Alma understood how it appealed to Jacob. He, too, had a peculiarity that made it immensely hard to discern good from evil.

The books and the tales within becomes a way for Alma to know the children. To see who they really are on a deeper level. To take information they would not give willing but wore openly when they listened to the mesmerizing stories so close yet so far away.

And for this purpose, Alma continued reading.


End file.
